




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


0001^403312 


David Skaats Fo^er 




Copyright N? 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 





The Kidnapped Damozel 



The Kidnapped Damozel 
The Oval Diamond 
Alraschid in Petticoates 


By 

David Skaats Foster 



THE FRANKLIN BOOK COMPANY 

Publishers 

70 Fifth Avenue, New York 
Leicester Square, London 




Copyright, 1915, by 
The Franklin Book Company 


6 ' 



APR 12 1315 

©aA397539 



I 


CONTENTS 

THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 

CHAF. 

I. The Tame Elephants g 

II. The Abduction , 22 

III. The Captive Jeanne 36 

IV. The Ghost of Hugo 48 

V. The Death of Caspar 61 

VI. The Vaults of Drachenburg 76 

VII. The Castle Roof 90 

THE OVAL DIAMOND 

I. The Walled Garden 108 

II. The Suddenness of Robert 113 

HI. Sylvia’s Story 120 1 

IV. Robert Meets the Dennisons 127 

V. Sylvia Telegraphs 135 

VI. Electroliers 142 

VH. The Helping Hand 150 

VHI. Up a Tree 157 

IX. The Messenger 165 

X. The Cryptogram 172 

XI. Borrowing the Dictionary 179 

XH. Value of the Morse Code 187 

XHI. It was the Cat 194 

XIV. Milk Bottles 201 

XV. The Cross Mark 208 

XVI. The Glass Eye 214 

XVH. The Toll of the Diamond 221 


8 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGE 

XVIII. Honor among Thieves 228 

XIX. The Biter Bit 235 

XX. Trouser Cuffs 242 

ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

I. Adventure of the Changed Coffins 251 

II. Adventure of the Fortune Teller 262 

III. Adventure of the Play House 273 

IV. Adventure of the Mask Ball ’ 284 

V. Adventure of the Devil Tavern 296 

VI. Adventure of the Mysterious Wedding 31 1 

VII. Adventure of the Spirit Sitting 324 

VIII. Adventure of the Holy Healers 337 

IX. Adventure of the Necromancer 349 

X. Adventure of the Queen’s Teeth 361 


The Kidnapped Damozel 


CHAPTER I 

THE TAME ELEPHANTS 

Now it was a matter of history that Mrs. John 
Jenkins, formerly Hilda Von Waldeck, and Mrs. Stuy- 
vesant Perkins, formerly Valeska Maria Claudia von 
Englehard, had attended at the same time the famous 
pension or young ladies’ seminary of the excellent Frau 
Grosbeak, at Jena, in the Grand Duchy of Weimar. 
At this aristocratic and respectable institution of learn- 
ing these two had been ever inseparable and had vowed 
eternal friendship; consequently, they had written each 
other many hundreds of letters after leaving school 
and they even kept up a regular correspondence after 
both of them were married. So confidential was this 
correspondence that it is doubtful whether Mrs. Jen- 
kins herself knew more of the virtues and failings of 
John Jenkins than did Mrs. Perkins, or whether Mrs. 
Perkins was better acquainted with the peculiarities of 
Stuyvesant than was her friend Mrs. Jenkins. 

Be that as it may, the Perkins had visited the Jen- 
kins at Oldendorf and the Jenkins had visited the 
Perkins at Munich, and so it had come about that 
Jenkins and Perkins had become fast friends, the more 
so, as they were both in the same boat, both by nature 
of' a gay and jovial disposition and they both liked the 
same things and the same people. For instance, they 
both liked Julius Waterbury. He came around once 

9 


10 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


in a while on his way home from the Antipodes and 
dropped in on John Jenkins, and that is the way that 
Stuyvesant Perkins made his acquaintance. It may 
be said also, sub rosa, that they both thought of Julius 
Waterbury with a feeling akin to envy : He was so 
care-free, so irresponsible and he seemed to enjoy so 
perfect and joyous a liberty. Julius Waterbury was a 
bad example for John Jenkins and Stuyvesant Perkins, 
and Mrs. Jenkins and Mrs. Perkins were very much 
alive to the fact. 

Now it happened that Mrs. Jenkins had an attack 
of nerves and was quite under the weather, sO' that her 
phvsician recommended a month at Homburg. She 
wrote of the fact to her friend Valeska, who shortly 
thereafter was herself taken with a similar attack and 
received a similar recommendation. The result being 
that we now find these two ladies sitting together upon 
the veranda of the. Hotel de France, at Homburg, 
which, as everybodv knows, is upon the Louisen 
Strasse, directly opnosite the grand entrance of the 
statelv building of the Kursaal. 

It was' a warm and beautiful afternoon in the month 
of August, a few white, fleecy clouds sailed very 
slowly across the sky and, in the far distance, the out- 
lines of the Taunus mountains loomed up, blue and 
indistinct. 

The two ladies, however, were not occupied in gaz- 
ing at the beauties of nature. They were energetically 
teetering back and forth upon large, heavy, mission 
rocking chairs, which had been recently imported from 
America by the hotel management; they were watch- 
ing the hundreds of elegantly dressed, beautiful women 
and aristocratic, correctly clothed men who passed in 
and out of the Kurhaus, and listening to the Kurhaus 
band which was playing Von Weber’s “Invitation to 


THE TAME ELEPHANTS 


II 


the Waltz.” Moreover, they were talking. Julius 
Waterbury would have said that they were “talking 
and talking and talking.” 

“Meine liebe Hilda,” at length said Mrs. Perkins, 
“there is one man whom, somehow, I can never get to 
like. He is rich and young and he is not bad looking, 
and one must own that he has the manners and culti- 
vation of! a gentleman. There is, however, something 
disorganizing, something iconoclastic and disruptive 
about him. A person, and especially a man, cannot be 
with him a quarter hour without suffering from it, 
without deteriorating, so to speak, and becoming less 
fine, less chivalric in his feelings and character.” 

“I have in mind,” answered Mrs. Jenkins, “just 
such a man as you describe. I wonder now if we can 
be thinking about the same individual. The man I 
referred to is a regular woman-hater.” 

“So is mine, nia chere Hilda. He is always talk- 
ing about the glorious liberty of a single man.” 

“What a perverse and utterly mean idea! though 
one would really think that we were speaking of the 
same person. The man I was thinking of is thor- 
oughly selfish. Though, of course, he is what the 
world calls liberal, yet he spends all his money upon 
himself, traveling, entertaining his friends and the 
like, when he should be marrying some nice girl and 
letting her spend his money.” 

“It is certainly contemptible for a person to be 
such an egotist. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we 
really had the same individual in mind? The one I 
was speaking of absolutely said to me one day that 
women talk too much. Now what do you think of 
that?” 

“I think that is just like him. Now I am sure we 
are talking about the same person, for I have heard 


12 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


him make that same remark more than once. Doesn’t 
his given name commence with ‘J’?” 

‘‘Yes, and his surname begins with ‘W.’ You 
see, I am right. We were both talking about Julius 
Waterbury. What a wonderful coincidence Do you 
know, meine Hebe, the very day Julius Waterbury 
comes to town I become aware of the fact simply from 
the change in Stuyvesant’s manner and general be- 
havior. He becomes more insouciant, so to speak, he 
puts on a sort of a devil-may-care demeanor, if I may 
be allowed the expression and he becomes less attentive 
and chivalric.” 

“That is just the way with John, my dear Valeska. 
Once I even said to John, ‘I know what has happened : 
That man, Julius Waterbury, has turned up and you 
have been under his influence; otherwise you would 
not act as you do.’ Well, do you know, I had hit the 
nail exactly on the head.” 

“Yes, Hilda, I can well believe it. The mistake 
was that you didn’t hit Julius Waterbury where you 
hit the nail. I know that he has a very sinister influ- 
ence upon Stuyvesant. Stuyvesant, you know, isn’t 
used to our foggy, German winters, so I have always 
made him wear rubber overshoes when the going was 
at all wet. Well, what do you think? The last time 
Julius Waterbury came to Munich, he wasn’t there a 
day before Stuyvesant threw his overshoes in the ash 
can and said he’d be d — d if he’d wear them again. 
The worst of it was that he had never, never before 
used such language in my presence.” 

“That reminds me, Valeska, of something of the 
same kind which I had to put up with. John, you 
know, is troubled off and on with a slight bronchial 
affection, so that I have insisted on his wearing one 
of those red flannel chest-protectors, from the fifteenth 


THE TAME ELEPHANTS 


13 

of September to the fifteenth of May. I made him 
three of them. They were embroidered with leaves 
and flowers, in green, red and yellow silk, and in the 
middle, there was a pair of hearts transfixed by a dart. 
You should have seen them. They were certainly 
exquisite. Well, one day Julius Waterbury arrived in 
town, and it seems that he caught sight of John’s chest- 
protector at the Turkish bath; and what he said to John 
about it I don’t know, but John came home furious, 
passed right through the room where I was sitting, 
without speaking to me, went to his dressing bureau 
and got the other two and put all three into the grate 
and burned them up before my very eyes. I cried 
about it all one day, thinking that he would ask my 
forgiveness, but he never did. Now can you wonder 
if I dislike Julius Waterbury?” 

“You poor, poor child. I wonder that you can bear 
the sight of him. Just listen now to what I have to 
tell and then you can let me know if I have any par- 
ticular reason to love him. I have always made it a 
point with Stuyvesant that he shall be in bed by eleven 
o’clock ; excepting, of course, when he takes me to the 
theater or to a dance or dinner. The fact is that his 
health demands it. But one evening Julius Waterbury 
being in the city of course, Stuyvesant went out on 
some pretext or other, for an hour or two, as he said, 
and what do you think? He didn’t come home until 
an hour after midnight. And I am ashamed to say it, 
but he was not exactly himself, so to speak ; you know 
what I mean. Well, I happened to look in his coat 
pocket before he got up the next morning, and I found 
there about forty round, thin, lozenge-shaped things, 
colored red, blue and white. I asked him of course 
what they were, and he said that they were counters; 
that he was playing billiards, and whenever he made a 


14 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


shot he put one of them in his pocket. Aunt Reinhold 
was with us at the time, and she g-ave Stuyvesant a 
penetrating look and said to him, ‘Stuyvesant Perkins, 
you must remember that I was not born yesterday and 
that I have spent no inconsiderable share of my life in 
America.’ I have never been able to get her to tell 
me what she meant by it, but it had its effect upon 
Stuyvesant, for, since that time, he has been as good 
as pie to her.” 

“Before I forget, Valeska dear, I must tell you of 
another incident which shows Julius Waterbury’s per- 
nicious influence. I have never allowed John to smoke 
since our marriage, for the reason that mother cannot 
bear tobacco. Well, one evening John came home a 
half hour late for dinner. Of course he had been 
with Julius Waterbury. He came and stood in the 
doorway of the library, where I was sitting with 
mother, and I looked up and was shocked to see that 
he was smoking a cigarette. You should have seen his 
unconcern and assurance. Mother gave him one look 
and got up and went to go out of the room. Just, 
however, as she passed him, he gave a puff, and the 
smoke actually went right in mother’s face. Dear 
mother coughed almost all night long from the effects 
of it and, at the table next morning, she said that if it 
happened again she would leave the house. And what 
do you think John said to her?” 

“I can’t imagine, but undoubtedly he apologized.” 

“Not a bit of it. He simply said, ‘Will you put it 
in writing?’ That is what Julius Waterbury’s influ- 
ence did for John.” 

“Well, what are we going to do about it? Must 
we sit with our hands folded and permit this enemy 
of wedlock, this scoffer, this care-free and selfish idler 
to wreck our domestic happiness ? Have you anything 
to propose ?” 


THE TAME ELEPHANTS 


15 


^‘Yes, meine liebe, I was coming to that very thing. 
I have an expedient in mind which, if we can bring it 
to fulfillment, will do away with all these annoyances. 
Listen, Valeska, we must get Julius Waterbury mar- 
ried.” 

''That is all very well, but how are we going to set 
about it? I can imagine nothing more difficult. He 
shies at the very mention of matrimony. You recol- 
lect very well how he jilted that poor child, the Coun- 
tess Brunhilda. Just at the point too when you thought 
he was nicely caught. How do you propose to bring 
it about ?” 

"Oh, there are different ways. Some men need to 
be coaxed and others driven. There are those, how- 
ever, who may not be either coaxed or driven. They 
are in fact so wary that at the mere mention of mar- 
riage, they run like a scared dog. Julius Waterbury 
is one of these. There is, however, a way for every 
man, by which he may be captured, and we must con- 
cert together until we find it. I have in mind now 
the very girl for him. I met her here two years ago, 
and I think that she is here now, or at a place not far 
from here. She is with her sister and her sister’s 
husband, and I think that they are Americans and rich. 
Her name is Smith, but I forget the name of her 
brother-in-law. She is an awfully nice girl and just 
the right kind for him. She has a mind of her own 
and if Julius Waterbury marries her, he will never 
forget for one instant that he is married to her.” 

"It would certainly be delightful, Hilda dear, to 
get him married to such a girl. He might not think 
so at first, but he would gradually get used to it. It is 
fortunate that there is no immediate need of our taking 
the matter up, since there is no fear of Julius Water- 
bury worrying us for some months to come. Stuy- 


i6 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


vesant told me the other day that he was at the present 
time sailing around among the Solomon Islands, wher- 
ever they are. All I know is that they are upon the 
other side of the world ; for which Heaven be praised.” 

Valeska von Englehard Perkins at that moment 
raised her round, white arm and looked at a bracelet 
watch, a present from Stuyvesant, upon the last anni- 
versary of their wedding. 

^‘Good Heavens! Hilda! do you know what time 
it is? It is actually a quarter past six. The train 
arrives at five forty-five. You said that Mr. Jenkins 
was coming upon it, and Stuyvesant was to take that 
train without fail. Where can they possibly be? Do 
you suppose the train is late?” 

“Valeska, that train is never late. It is made up 
at Frankfort and is always on time. The trouble is 
not with the train, as you will find. As it is, they will 
have only fifteen minutes to dress for dinner. How 
annoying! Ah, here they come now.” 

As she spoke John Jenkins and Stuyvesant Perkins 
came out of the hotel and advanced toward their wives. 
They were laughing and chatting and seemed altogether 
in a gay and joyous humor. Each man went to em- 
brace his spouse. The ladies, however, were in no 
mood for such dalliance and the two men quickly per- 
ceived an extreme frigidity in the atmosphere. 

“Was the train late?” asked Mrs. Jenkins in even 
tones. 

“Yes, love,” answered her spouse. “Well, er, it 
wasn’t so very late, but the fact is that we met' an old 
friend in the hotel lobby, a friend we hadn’t seen in 
some months. You will be delighted to hear who it is. 
An old acquaintance of yours too. Guess now, who he 
is. Whom of all our old friends would you like to 
see the most?” 


THE TAME ELEPHANTS 


17 


T am not good at guessing,” said Mrs. Jenkins. 

It can’t be the Reverend Mr. Schimmelhaupt, the good 
old clergyman who married us ?” 

“I said he was an old friend of mine, Hilda. I 
mean that I have known him for years.” 

“Is that all that you meant?” 

“Certainly, my love. This friend whom we met is 
not exactly a reverend.” 

“It does not seem to me,” interrupted Mrs. Perkins, 
“judging from the manner and the appearance of these 
two gentlemen, that it can be a clergyman whom they 
have been entertaining. But, come to the point. Who 
is the old friend?” 

“Prepare for a most pleasant surprise,” answered 
Perkins. “It was our old friend Julius Waterbury.” 

“Oh,” said Mrs. Perkins. 

“Oh,” said Mrs. Jenkins. 

“Yes, it’s a fact,” said Jenkins. “He motored all 
the way from Paris in his sixty-horse-power Mercedes. 
He will be here two weeks at the least. Isn’t it jolly?” 

“Good old Julius !” exclaimed Perkins. 

“You and Mr. Jenkins look and act as if you had 
been celebrating his arrival quite energetically,” said 
Mrs. Perkins. 

“Oh, we had to drink his health, of course,” 
answered Perkins. “Then we had to join him when 
he drank ours. One good turn deserves another, you 
know.” 

“Yes, a sort of a continuous performance, or an 
endless chain,” remarked Mrs. Jenkins, with a marked 
inflection of sarcasm in her voice. “It is a curious 
coincidence, but we were talking about Mr. Waterbury 
just before you came.” 

“That is certainly astonishing,” said her husband. 
‘Wou probably said a lot of awfully good things about 
2 


i8 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


the dear old be^g-ar. Wouldn’t he have been jolly well 
pleased if he had heard you?” 

do not think that he would,” answered Mrs. 
Jenkins. ‘Waleska and I, after talking- the matter over 
at length, have come to the fixed and settled conclusion 
that we must get Julius Waterbury married.” 

“Oh, come now, what have you against him?” 

“That is not a very kind remark for you to make, 
John Jenkins. One would think, to hear you, that we 
were not happily married.” 

“Oh, pshaw, Hilda, love, you know that I certainly 
did not intend to convey any such idea. But why 
have you determined to bring good old Julius to the 
altar? What has he done?” 

“He has done enough. Since you have been here, 
you have made two very unkind, not to say brutal re- 
marks to me. You have just uttered derogatory words 
about the holy state of marriage, and a moment ago 
you said that dear old Doctor Schimmelhaupt, who 
married us, was not a friend of yours.” 

“I did not say, dearest, that he was not a friend of 
mine?” 

“Yes, you did, or what amounted to the same thing. 
Now I have noticed that you never make these cynical, 
hurtful and tactless remarks unless you have been first 
associating with Julius Waterbury. He is not a proper 
person for you to associate with. He has no restrain- 
ing influences. He has no proper regard for the fine 
amenities of society. I know that he scoffs openly at 
martial ties. If he were married to the right girl it 
would be so different.” 

“My dear Hilda,” said Mrs. Perkins. “I agree 
with you perfectly. I have noticed the same change 
in Stuyvesant after he has been subjected to the sinister 
influence of Julius Waterbury ’s society. What Julius 


THE TAME ELEPHANTS 


19 


Waterbury needs is something which will restrict and 
curb his altogether too free and abandoned instincts. 
What he needs is some nice girl of determination and 
will power, a girl too, who has a sensible, level-headed, 
clear-sighted mother. We would then see a transfor- 
mation in him, and he would be an altogether different 
man.” 

“There is no doubt about it,” said Perkins. 

“You needn’t sneer at it, Stuyvesant.” 

“I was not sneering, by any means. I was only 
wondering how you were going to bring the horse to 
the water, and how you were going to make him drink 
when you had him there.” 

“That is not a very nice or delicate simile by any 
means. But, to use your own brutal and tactless 
language, Hilda and I expect you and Mr. Jenkins to 
lead the horse to the water and we also require that you 
make him drink when you have led him to it.” 

“Oh, come now, Valeska, love. You don’t know 
what you are asking us to do. The thing is impossible 
anyway. Then think how much he has always thought 
of us.” 

“There it is again. You speak of it as if you were 
doing him an irreparable injury. Perhaps you are 
sorry that you are married to me.” 

“Perish the thought, my dear. But how on earth 
shall we go about it? Nothing short of a club would 
have any effect upon him.” 

“Then use a club. All there is to it is this : Hilda 
and I have made up our minds definitely and conclu- 
sively that Julius Waterbury must marry. We will 
provide the girl and you will see that he marries her. 
We don’t care how you do it. And that is all there is 
of it.” 

“All right, Valeska dear. I will undertake the 


20 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


matter at once, though I have more than doubt as to 
the result. What do you say about it, Jack?” 

‘T don’t see that there is anything for me to say. 
The girls have made up our minds for us, and all we 
have to do is to do the best we can. I would rather, 
however, set out to catch and domesticate a zebra, or 
some such wild and flighty beast.” 

‘T say. Jack, we will be the tame elephants.” 

“What do you mean by that?” demanded Mrs. 
Perkins. 

“Why you see, dear, it’s like this : When they wish 
to capture wild elephants in the jungles of Africa and 
Asia, they build a corral around a piece of ground 
about as large as a ten-acre lot. This corral is a high 
fence or stockade, made of trees and posts, firmly 
bound together, and has a small opening at one end. 
Then they take two or three tame elephants and go out 
to where the herd of wild elephants is grazing, and the 
tame elephants, being educated to it, single out some 
promising victim and lead him and shoulder him along 
until they get him into the corral, and the thing is done. 
The corral is the state of matrimony, easy to get into, 
but hard to get out of. The promising victim is Julius, 
and Jack and I are the tame elephants.” 

“Well, I suppose you think,” said Valeska von 
Englehard Perkins, with a forced calmness, “that you 
have said a most excruciatingly funny thing. Let me 
tell you though that it is in exceedingly bad taste and as 
silly a thing as I ever heard from you, and that is say- 
ing a good deal.” 

“But where is the girl?” asked Jenkins. “I sup- 
pose you ladies have one up your sleeves as usual. I 
have always noticed that there was no scarcity in that 
commodity, and you ordinarily have several whom you 
are anxious to unload.” 


THE TAME ELEPHANTS 


21 


‘‘ ‘Unload’ is certainly a very refined and well- 
chosen word,” answered Mrs. Jenkins. “But no mat- 
ter. Valeska and I have decided upon that Miss Smith 
whom we met here two years ago. She is staying with 
her sister and her sister’s husband, at Wiesbaden, I 
think, and we can very easily get her over here.” 

“Miss Smith!” exclaimed John Jenkins. “Why, 
that girl is every bit as unmanageable as Julius. She’s 
a flirt, in the first place, and she’s up to every kind of 
deviltry. Poor, poor Julius !” 


CHAPTER II 


THE ABDUCTION 

Four or five days passed, and still Julius Waterbury 
and Miss Smith had not met. Mrs. Jenkins had the 
girl over to Homburg several times. Each time, how- 
ever, Julius was suspiciously ready with an excuse for 
not putting in an appearance at the particular hour. He 
was as slippery as an eel. He had discharged his 
chauffeur upon arriving at Homburg, for the reason 
that he had found articles of raiment and small objects 
of value disappearing with wonderful regularity and 
rapidity. He now drove the car himself. He took the 
Jenkins and Perkins riding a number of times, and the 
ladies were forced to confess that he had made himself 
as agreeable as possible. As far though as their plan 
went, he was recalcitrant. If he drove his car up in 
front of the hotel porch and saw they had a strange 
young lady with them, he called out something wildly 
unintelligible and passed swiftly on. 

On the fifth day he hired a new mechanician and 
invited Jenkins and Perkins to drive with him to 
Frankfort, by the way of Wiesbaden and the Rhine 
road. He proposed to stay the night at Frankfort and 
motor back the next day; so he took a portmanteau, 
with a change of linen and a dinner suit. Jenkins and 
Perkins were coming back that night by train, so they 
took nothing. 

It was after five o’clock in the evening when they 
set out, and about six when they passed through Wies- 
baden. Jenkins pointed out Miss Smith sitting upon 
the veranda of the hotel of the Four Seasons, and pro- 

22 


THE ABDUCTION 


23 


posed that they stop and call upon her. Julius Water- 
bury looked neither to the right or left and made as 
if he did not hear. 

Three or four miles further on they struck the road 
which winds along upon the hills and bluffs of the 
river. Now and then they passed a dilapidated old 
robber baron castle, gray with age, ivy-clad and ap- 
parently ready to topple over. 

“Why don’t they fix ’em up?” asked Waterbury. 

“Baedeker won’t let ’em,” answered Jenkins. 

“It would hurt one of the chief industries of the 
country,” said Perkins. 

Finally they came to a steep, bard hill, some half 
a mile in length. There was something the matter with 
the engine, ^o that they had to go up on second speed. 
When they got to the top of it, the chauffeur ran the 
car to the left-hand side of the road and stopped it. 

“Something the matter with the sparking device,” 
said he. He got out and opened up the hood, and 
Jenkins and Perkins, who knew something about cars, 
or pretended that they did, got out to help him. Julius 
Waterbury remained in the tonneau, and presently took 
out his pipe and filled and lighted it. Therein he 
showed true wisdom. 

The engine didn’t seem to worry him at all. He 
had a good pipe and the scenery was excellent. Now 
and then a motor boat, or small passenger steamer or 
skiff passed up or down the broad, blue expanse of the 
Rhine, far below them. The evening was calm and 
delightfully cool, the sky was flecked with a few cottony 
clouds, and before them, down the road, was a dark 
forest of pines; over the tops of which appeared the 
towers and gable roofs and turrets of another mediaeval 

castle. Ml • 1 

Ten minutes passed and they were still tinkering 

at the engine, when there came the sound of a 


24 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


Gabriel’s horn from behind them, and a large, black 
touring car dashed by them, half enveloped in dust and 
going at a rate of forty miles an hour. 

There were two men and a girl in the car. One 
man was driving and the other sat in the tonneau with 
the girl. As the car passed, the girl sprang from the 
seat, turned around and stretched out her arms toward 
Waterbury, with a gesture of entreaty. She gave a 
cry of anguish and despair and the look upon her face, 
which seemed beautiful in the short glimpse which 
Waterbury had of it, was eloquent with fear and horror. 
The man at her side reached up and pulled her down 
roughly into the tonneau. 

“Well, what do you think of that?” said Wafer- 
bury. 

“I think it altogether likely that they are exceeding 
the speed limit,” said Jenkins. 

“It seems to me highly possible,” said Perkins. 

“But, the girl. What of the girl?” cried Water- 
bury. 

“What girl?” asked Jenkins. 

“Was there a girl?” queried Perkins. 

‘Won know deuced well that there was a girl,” 
answered Waterbury angrily. “Do you mean to tell 
me that you didn’t see her spring up and stretch out 
her hands to us ? That vou didn’t hear her cry out to 
us?” ' 

“Julius,” said Jenkins seriously, “you are ro- 
mancing. Perhaps you are in liquor, though, if that 
is the case, I don’t know where you came by it.” 

“You are certainly seeing things,” added Perkins. 

“Yes, I am seeing things. For instance, I see 
standing before me now a pair of confounded, deaf and 
purblind idiots.” 

“Oh, T suppose there might have been a girl in the 

car,” said Ferkins, "A girl in a motor car is a com- 


THE ABDUCTION 


25 


mon enough sight. But, that you saw and heard any 
such thing as you described, passes belief.” 

'That girl was being abducted,” said Waterbury 
with decision. 

^ "So was my grandmother,” said Jenkins-. ‘This 
IS a civilized country and we are living in the twentieth 
century. Are you sure it wasn’t a frame-up for a 
moving picture show?” 

Waterbury turned away in disgust. Jenkins and 
Perkins now came around to the right-hand side of 
the car and stood looking down the highwav- 

“We can see them when they come out upon that 
strip of road which shows beyond the woods,” said 
Perkins. 

At that moment the car emerged from the forest. 
It was visible for a few seconds only, and then it 
vanished in a second bit of wood. 

“It did seem to me that there was a female in the 
car,” said Jenkins. 

“I thought I caught a glimpse of feminine apparel,” 
said Perkins. 

“Do you think really that you would know a woman 
if you saw one?” asked Waterbury. “There is another 
bit of roadway visible away down beyond the second 
patch of forest. We shall see them again there.” 

They waited a minute, then five minutes, but the 
car did not show up. 

“That’s strange,” remarked Jenkins. 

“It’s deuced queer,” said Perkins. 

“What is there queer about it?” asked Waterbury. 

“There is no habitation in those woods, except the 
castle,” answered Jenkins. “You can see the towers 
of it above the tops of the trees. They must have 
stopped at the castle.” 

^'Well, suppose they did stop at the castle, That 


26 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


doesn’t disprove what I told you about the girl. What 
is the castle anyway?” 

“That castle,” answered Perkins, “is Drachenburg 
Castle. It stands upon a bluff overlooking the Rhine, 
and is about a quarter mile from the highway. It was 
built by an old bandit, named Hugo von Drachenburg, 
in the thirteenth or fourteenth century. They say his 
ghost walks there now, clad in complete armour of 
plate. Can’t sleep on account of his crimes, I suppose. 
The place is kept up in fairly good condition, and 
there’s a man living there now. He is not a descendant 
of old Hugo; but, according to all reports, he is every 
bit as villainous. I don’t know of any one particular 
crime which he has committed, but, as per common 
report, he wouldn’t stop at anything short of assassina- 
tion. Perhaps not even at that. He has a number of 
squint-eyed, sneaking and most secretive menials and 
there seems to be, at all times, something sinister and 
underhanded going on there ; though what it is, no one 
can find out. If those old donjon keeps and vaults and 
torture chambers could speak, they would, without 
doubt, tell a most blood-curdling tale. They say that 
the common people, peasants, charcoal-burners and the 
like, always cross themselves when they pass the castle 
walls, especially at night.” 

“If the destination of the car was Drachenburg 
Castle, perhaps the girl really was in trouble,” said 
Jenkins. 

“And if the girl was going there of her free will, 
she is not a lady proper for our acquaintance,” said 
Perkins. 

“We will stop there and see what there is to it,” 
said Waterbury. 

“What is the use of looking for trouble?” said 
Jenkins. 


THE ABDUCTION 


27 


“Let sleeping dogs lie/’ said Perkins. 

“Nevertheless, we will stop there,” said Waterbury. 

The mechanician had now adjusted the engine to 
his satisfaction, the four men got into the car and away 
they went. From the spot where they had halted the 
road fell away in a continuous and easy descent for 
the matter of a mile or more. They quickly passed 
through the first patch of forest and, in a few moments 
more, had crossed the intervening space of open road, 
and were in the second bit of woods. When they were 
half way through this, they came to a road which led 
off to the right of the main highway. The three young 
men now left th.e car at the junction of the two roads, 
in the charge of the chauffeur, and set forth on foot 
toward the castle. After walking a quarter mile, they 
came out of the forest into the open and saw before 
them the castle of Drachenburg. 

It was a large, extended, heterogeneous collection 
of walls, gables and towers, both round and square. 
There were three or four round towers and as many 
square towers. These latter had battlemented tops, and 
two or three of them had small, round sentry turrets on 
top of them. There were donjons and keeps and bar- 
bicans and portcullises and merlons and embrasures 
aplenty. There was a moat all around the castle, ex- 
cepting upon the left or east side, where there was a 
deep gully or gorge, and in the bottom of the gorge a 
small stream leaped and bounded down until it shot 
over the cliff into the Rhine. Inside the moat there 
was a wall with a parapet, which surrounded the castle, 
and lying across the moat, in the center of the front, 
there was a drawbridge, with chains to haul it up with ; 
though it probably had not been hauled up in a century. 
The castle was built of a stone which was white and 
porous with age, and a great part of the whole struc- 


28 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


ture was covered with an ivy which resembled the 
ordinary English ivy. The open space in front of the 
castle was very well kept up. There was an acre or 
two of grassy lawn, set out with trees and shrubs, and 
there were some rustic seats here and there. 

The three young men stood and stared up at the 
building. There was not a sign of life about the place, 
either upon the grounds or in the windows of the castle. 
There was no car in sight. Over everything hung a 
sinister and uncanny silence. At length they crossed 
a wooden bridge which spanned the gully, so that they 
might inspect the left or eastern face of the building. 
The same absence of all life was also apparent here. 
Just, however, as they were turning to retrace their 
steps, Waterbury saw a human figure appear at a win- 
dow, which was placed some thirty feet from the bottom 
of the wall and about fijfty feet back from the square 
tower which stood at the corner of the building. It 
seemed to him to be the figure of a lady, and what 
struck him most vividly was the unnatural whiteness of 
her face. The figure vanished, however, as quickly as 
it came. 

“Did you see that?” he cried, clutching Jenkins by 
the arm. 

“I have seen absolutely nothing. What are you 
talking about?” 

“I just saw a woman’s face appear at the window, 
the fourth window from the corner, and the third from 
the bottom of the wall.” 

“This thing has got upon your nerves,^’ said 
Jenkins. 

“You dreamed it,” said Perkins. 

“Oh, shut up,” said Waterbury. 

After they had stared at the castle for some min- 
utes longer, they turned and recrossed the bridge and 


THE ABDUCTION 


29 


began to retrace their steps to the spot where they had 
left the car. Even Waterbury began to doubt whether 
he had actually seen the face. Perhaps it was only the 
lights and shadows wrought by the setting sun upon 
the panes. Besides, the dusk was coming on, they had 
a long distance to go yet, and at several points the high- 
way wound through the forest, which made it seem a 
wise course to get as near the city as possible before 
nightfall. 

They arrived at Frankfort shortly before nine 
o’clock, and Waterbury gave his friends a very well- 
chosen and cozy little bachelor’s dinner at the hotel. 
The group at the table would have made one of those 
problem pictures which are so difficult to solve. The 
question would have been: ‘‘Find the two married 
men.” 

After dinner Jenkins and Perkins took the train 
back to Homburg, and Waterbury, after attending to 
the matter which had brought him to Frankfort, went 
to bed. During the night he had a dream, which was 
as follows : He dreamt that he was pursuing the big 
black automobile with his own car, and that the girl 
whom he had seen in the big, black car was standing 
up in the tonneau and frantically urging him to rescue 
her. They raced about a thousand miles through the 
woods. Then they came to the river Rhine, and they 
went up the river Rhine, running right on the top of 
the water, for about seven hundred miles, then they 
came to Drachenburg castle, and the car ahead of him 
left the water and shot right up through the air onto 
the top of the building, and his car followed it, only, 
when he went to land on the stone platform of the roof, 
the car came down with such a jounce that all his four 
tires burst with a loud bang. The other car had van- 
ished, but presently there appeared from behind a neigh- 


30 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


boring tower the ghost of old Hugo von Drachenburg, 
clad in a complete suit of plate armour and bearing a 
battle axe upon his shoulder. He stepped up to the car 
and spoke very politely. 

“Having a little tire trouble?” said he. 

Then Waterbury awoke. 

The next morning, at about half past eight, he 
started to motor back to Homburg. When he had 
reached the road in the forest which branched off 
toward Drachenburg castle, he got out of the car and 
told his chauffeur to drive to Wiesbaden and to wait 
for him at the hotel of the Four Seasons. It was only 
five or six miles to Wiesbaden, the walking was good, 
and he proposed to set his mind at rest about the kid- 
napped damozel and about the face which he had seen 
at the window. He feared the ridicule of Jenkins and 
Perkins and thought it best to get that chauffeur out 
of the way before he commenced his investigations. 

When he had come to the open place in front of 
the castle, he stood for a while in the cover of the trees 
to reconnoiter. Everything seemed as silent and as 
gloomy as upon the preceding evening. Not a living 
thing was in sight. Finally he crossed the bridge over 
the gorge and gazed at the window where he had seen 
the face. When he had stood there with his nose in 
the air for five minutes and was about to turn away, 
all at once, the same figure appeared behind the panes. 
This time he was nearer the window and the light was 
better and it at once came to him that it was the girl 
of the big black car. She looked down and saw him 
and he immediately saw her arms go out to him in 
that gesture of agonized appeal. Then she was sud- 
denly pulled away from the window, as if by someone 
who stood behind her, and he saw her no more. 

Waterbury was of an enterprising nature, and an 


THE ABDUCTION 


31 


adventure, such as this promised to be, always appealed 
to him. Furthermore, he had more fear of God than 
of man in his heart, and he was of that large body of 
individuals who rush in where angels fear to tread. 

“I will see what there is of it,” said Julius Water- 
bury. 

When he had said this, he came back across the 
gorge, and crossing the drawbridge to the wicket in 
the wall, entered the court of the castle, ascended the 
stone steps to the great arched door and pushed the 
button of the electric bell. 

He was so intent upon the adventure that he forgot 
to wonder why it was that there should be an electric 
bell at the door of a robber baron’s castle. 

He pushed the button several times, but no one 
came. Then he put his thumb upon the button and 
kept it there for full five minutes. Presently a heavy 
footstep was audible from somewhere within the walls. 
Then there came the sound of creaking bolts and bars, 
the door opened about six inches and a man appeared 
in the opening. He was six feet in height, was smooth- 
faced, had red hair and a bald spot on the top of his 
head. His face was of a white, meal}' color, and his 
gray, beady eyes had a furtive look. 

‘T wish to see the master of the house,” said Water- 
bury, in his best German. 

‘‘You can’t see him, sir,” said the menial, in a pip- 
ing, treble voice, which seemed much at variance with 
his bulk and stature. “He sees no one, sir.” 

With that he tried to shut the door, but Waterbury 
had his foot between the door and the jamb. 

“Who is that lady whom I saw looking out of the 
third window, upon the east side of the chateau?” 

“There is no lady in the castle, sir.” 

^‘You are a liar,” said Waterbury, 


32 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


‘^Yes, sir/' answered the menial, meekly. 

Waterbury now put his left hand upon the jamb 
and his right upon the door and gave a sudden push. 
As the man wasn’t expecting such a move, the door 
opened and Waterbury slipped inside. 

The man, for a moment, seemed nonplussed. 

“If you will wait here, sir,” said he at length, “I 
will go and find if he will see you, sir. I will be back 
in a moment, sir.” 

With that he left the apartment, passing noiselessly 
through a door at the further end of it. 

Waterbury now let his gaze wander about the great 
hall in which he found himself. It was full forty feet 
in width ; on either side, a massive stairway of oak led 
up to a doorway, and the two stairways were connected 
together by a balcony. Under the balcony there was 
an immense stone fireplace, in which an ox might have 
been roasted, and upon either side of the fireplace there 
was a door. The floor of the hall was of brick, strewn, 
here and there, with bear, tiger and wolf skins, and 
upon the walls were hung many kinds of weapons and 
heads of wild animals and antlers and other trophies 
of the chase. The whole apartment with its furnishings 
gave one an idea of rude and barbaric magnificence. 

After about five minutes the menial came back. 
This time though, he came through the passage at the 
head of the left-hand stairway. 

“If you will step up here, sir,” said he, “he will 
see you.” 

Waterbury ascended the staircase and followed the 
servant through a long and very crooked corridor. 
They passed four or five doors and then his conductor 
threw open a door at the left of the passage. 

“Please step in here, sir,” said he. ^‘The Herr 
Graff will see you in a few moments, sir,” 


THE ABDUCTION 


33 


Waterbtiry passed into the chamber and the menial 
closed the door and disappeared. It was a very large 
room, fully thirty feet square, and had two windows. 
The floor was of oak, as well as the wainscoting and 
the great cross beams of the ceiling. There was a 
brick fireplace at one side, the furniture was of very 
ancient mahogany and away off in one corner was a 
great four-poster bed. The walls were hung with 
dingy tapestries, representing, as it seemed to Water- 
bury, scenes from the .^neid, and an open doorway at 
one end of the apartment led into a bath-room which 
contained, to the young man’s astonishment, the most 
modern of plumbing. 

“The old rascal,” thought Waterbury, “must have 
a lot of ill-gotten gains, to be able to fix the place up 
as he has. What a confoundedly queer idea though, 
to receive me in a bedroom !” 

He now went to one of the windows and raised it 
and looked out. Down beneath him, full forty feet 
below, the small stream rushed along the stony bottom 
of the gorge and off to the right he could see where 
it tumbled over the cliff into the Rhine. He twisted 
his neck looking upwards, to find if he might get his 
eyes on the window where he had seen the girl ; for he 
argued that it must be about immediately above him. 
There was, however, a heavy window cap at the top 
of his window which cut off his view from anything 
which might be higher up. 

After waiting five minutes, he grew impatient and, 
after ten minutes had passed, and there were still no 
signs of the Count, he went to open the door that he 
might inspect the corridor. He found the door locked. 

“Great Caesar’s ghost!” he exclaimed. “I might 
have known it. That fellow had ‘rascal’ written all 
over him, and I let him lead me along as if I were a 

3 


34 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


two-year-old child. This beats the Castle of old 
Schreckenstrohm to a frazzle. I wonder what is going 
to happen next. Anything is likely in this old rat- 
hole.’’ 

The door was monstrously strong and heavy and 
opened inwards, so that he saw no possibility of forc- 
ing it. He went at it though and beat and pounded 
upon it and then he kicked it a dozen times with all his 
strength. There was, however, no response, and 
naught but silence, oppressive and supreme, seemed to 
reign throughout the castle. Then he got a heavy 
mahogany chair and banged it against the door with 
all his might ; the only result being that he reduced the 
chair to kindlingwood, but the door was as good as 
ever. 

"‘What’s the use?” he thought. “If I keep this 
thing up, the chances are that I will become extremely 
nervous. It is far better to pursue a waiting policy. 
All things come to him who waits. I will see if that’s 
the truth, or one of those infernal lies that people are 
so often humbugged with.” 

He filled and lighted his pipe, dragged an easy chair 
to the open window, and sat there gazing at the Rhine 
and at the blue mountains beyond it in the distance. 
Strangely enough, he did not worry at all about the 
situation in which he found himself. Rather he re- 
garded it as a huge joke, and he found himself chuck- 
ling over it more than once. 

What he was worrying about was the girl. He 
felt a sincere compassion for her. She was a lovely 
damozel in distress, and there was a good deal of the 
knight errant about Waterbury, notwithstanding that 
he shied so abominably and unreasonably at the sug- 
gestion of matrimony. 

After he had been imprisoned in the room for 


THE ABDUCTION 


35 


something like two hours, it being then about half an 
hour after twelve o’clock, he heard the key turn in the 
lock, and looking up, saw the door suddenly open and 
his jailer appear with a tray of food. The menial 
quickly placed the tray upon the floor and sprang back- 
ward to make his exit. Waterbury leaped from his 
chair and raced for the door, shouting out : 

“Here! you! hold up or I’ll break your neck.” 

The man was too quick for him, however, and had 
closed and locked the door before Waterbury could get 
to it. 

Waterbury now dragged a table to the window and 
put the tray upon it. It contained a lot of lettuce and 
chicken sandwiches, delightfully seasoned, a lobster 
with mayonnaise, a bottle of Munich beer, a pot of 
aromatic black coffee and a pitcher of cream. The 
viands and beverages tasted even better than they 
looked. 

“The Count is evidently a good liver,” thought he, 
“and the blessed old robber doesn’t mean to starve me 
at least. When that fellow comes in with my supper, 
why couldn’t I be waiting to one side of the door and 
knock him into the middle of next week. Memor- 
andum, to try it anyway for luck. What!” 

Some time after he had eaten, he saw something 
dangling just before his nose, outside of the window. 
He stared at it, for he was certain that he had not seen 
it before. It seemed to be a slip of paper, crumpled 
up and tied to a string. He took the paper and untied 
the string from it and spread it open upon the window 
sill. Letters and words had been pricked into it with 
a pin, and Waterbury had no trouble at all in decipher- 
ing the following sentence: 

“Pour I’amour du bon Dieu Je vous prie de 
m’envoyer un crayon et du papier.” 


CHAPTER III 


THE CAPTIVE JEANNE 

“Eor the love of the good God, send me a pencil 
and some paper,” exclaimed Waterbiiry. “This is 
from the captive lady, without any doubt, and of course, 
she is a French girl. What a fortunate thing that I 
was put in this room, of all rooms in the castle. Her 
prison must be exactly over my window.” 

Waterbury took out a small memorandum book, 
which he always carried, and tore a dozen blank pages 
from it. Then he took a pencil which he luckily had 
with him, rolled it up securely in the paper and tied it 
to the string. He then gave the string two or three 
gentle pulls and at once it was drawn up, and the pack- 
age which he had made vanished from sight. He 
waited very patiently for what seemed an age, for the 
string to descend again with a message. It was a 
quarter hour before it appeared. There was a folded 
paper fastened to the end of it and he detached it as 
swiftly as possible and unfolded it. This is what he 
read : 

“Cher Monsieur: 

“Je vous prie, Je vous implore a m’aider. J’ai ete 
fprciblement enleve de mes amis et de ma famille, et 
ici apporte. J’ai ete ici detenu prisonniere depuis hier 
le soir. J’ai vu deux fois le seigneur de le chateau. 
C’est un homme terrible. Je’n sais ce qu’il vais faire 
de moi. Je le teme mille fois plus que le diable. Je 
vous supplie a nom de votre soeur et de votre fiancee, 
si vous en avez une, de me deliverer. 

“Jeanne.” 

36 


THE CAPTIVE JEANNE 


37 


Now what Waterbury, didn’t know about the 
French language would fill many a large volume. He 
had, it is true, studied French at various times, and he 
could read the lingo fairly well. In fact, he had no 
trouble whatever in deciphering Jeanne’s letter. He 
knew though, that he had his limitations. His knowl- 
edge of French composition was confined to the phrase 
book. He could ask in the best Parisian parlance the 
question : ‘'Have you the parasol of my cousin’s uncle?” 
and he could give the answer : “No, but I have the shot- 
gun of your wife’s grandmother.” This being so, he 
wisely decided to answer the letter in English. 

“My Dear Miss Jeanne: 

“Excuse me, please, for writing you in English. My 
French, to tell the truth, is somewhat rusty. I am 
a prisoner myself, as perhaps you know. It will not 
be for long, however. When my jailer comes with my 
supper, I shall kill him and make my escape. He de- 
serves killing anyway on account of his face. Please 
let me know how I am to find your room, and what I 
shall do when I get there. Are you the girl of the 
motor car? Keep your spirits up. I have an account 
to settle with the Count myself. 

“Yours respectfully, 

“Julius Waterbury.” 

Having finished the missive and attached it to the 
string, he watched it disappear above the window cap 
and sat down to await an answer. It was a long time 
coming, fully an hour, in fact. He grew impatient 
and paced up and down the chamber. He was becom- 
ing intensely interested in the affair. 

“Something must have happened to hinder her,” 
thought he. At length he caught sight of the paper 
fluttering down before the window. He pounced upon 
it at once and read as follows : 


38 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


“My Dear Monsieur Jules Waterbury: 

“It to me is equal if you the English or the French 
write, since that I the English speak also well like the 
French. Yes, you have right. I am the mademoiselle 
of the automobile. It to me comes also the idea that 
you the young man are who in the other car sat and 
the pipe smoked. I you have seen also to the outside 
of the chateau, yesterday the evening and also today, 
as you the window regarded, the beak in the air. Yet 
a time I have seen the seigneur of the chateau. It is 
a grand scallywag. He went to make the demand that 
I him marry. I would not you to tell the alternative 
that he to me went to make. Among the other things 
I was to go to die of the hunger. It is well frightful. 
Rather would I die of the hunger than of him to be 
the wife. You should to see his visage, also the form. 
It is truly a grand bear. It here has here a young 
serving demoiselle who herself calls Ottillie. She has 
the heart truly excellent and to me is become a friend. 
She to me is come two times for me to care for, and 
me would have made to escape, only she has not the 
key to the door. When she goes to enter or depart 
one locks the door. It is well necessary that we have 
the keys. Caspar, who is my jeweler and who is also 
the yours, has them. At the six hours he will carry 
your soup. Then it is absolutely necessary that you 
go to kill him. When you come of him to kill, take 
the keys from his cadaver and go to find Ottillie. She 
you will await to the end of the corridor. Without 
her you could not to find my door. When you come 
of me to deliver, she us will guide to the cellars of the 
chateau. It here has there a hole secret, by which, 
to the outside we will succeed to come well easily. 

“Jeanne.” 

Waterbury read this letter with astonishment and 
was much puzzled by it. 

“I see what she has done,” said he to himself at last. 


THE CAPTIVE JEANNE 


39 


‘‘The poor child has first written her letter in French, 
and then has translated it word for word, without 
changing the idiom into English: It is of French con- 
struction and only the words are English. That is why 
the dear girl took an hour in answering my last letter.” 

Several passages in the letter he could not at first 
make out at all. He could not understand what she 
meant by Caspar being her jeweler as well as his. 
Finally, however, it struck him that she meant “jailer,” 
the word for jeweler in French much resembling it. 
Again when she said that Caspar would bring his soup 
at six o’clock, she meant his “supper.” There were sev- 
eral sentences which he was a long time in deciphering. 
One of them was this : “She to me is come two times 
for me to care for.” At length he hit upon the plan 
of turning it back into French, and then it was an easy 
matter; the sentence reading: “Elle m’est venu deux 
fois pour me soigner,” which done over into proper 
English, becomes, “She visited me twice to make my 
toilet.” In the same manner the sentence, “It here has 
here a young demoiselle,” become, “II y a ici une jeune 
demoiselle,” and the phrase, “When you come of him 
to kill” became, “Quand vous venez de le tuer.” 

Suddenly a brilliant thought struck Waterbury. 
Why wouldn’t this be an excellent system for teaching 
Erench? He found it so easy to apply the French 
words to these French idiom English sentences, and it 
made perfect Erench too. Why, anyone could do it. 
First change the construction of the English into a 
French idiom, then all one has to do is to clap in the 
French words. 

Waterbury now sat down to write an answer to 
Jeanne’s last letter. 

“My Dear Little Friend Jeanne: 

“I was very sorry to see that you thought it neces- 


40 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


sary to write in English. Your English is beautiful 
and at the same time striking and distinctive. I would 
much rather, though, that you wrote in French. As 
I told you before, I am somewhat rusty in that lan- 
guage, and it would give me such a chance to practice 
myself in it. Besides, your French is so pure and cor- 
rect. Please write me henceforth in French. I have 
paid particular attention to your directions as to the 
keys. When my jeweler comes with the soup, I will 
slay him quickly and without compunction, and take 
the keys from his cadaver. My next step will be to 
find Ottillie. While I am about it, why not look up 
the Herr Graflf and slay him too? He has proposed 
marriage to you, and such an insult can only be wiped 
out with blood. 

“Yours devotedly, 

“Julius Waterbury.” 

“If,” thought he, “I should write it ‘jailer’ and ‘sup- 
per,’ she might think that I was correcting her, and it 
would hurt her feelings.” 

He now sat down to wait for an answer to his note. 
It was about four o’clock, and he could not expect 
Caspar to come with his supper until six. He thought 
out a plan whereby he might overcome Caspar and take 
the keys, without actually killing him. It might hurt 
Caspar, but the thopght of that did not worry him. 
The time went by on leaden wings; the minutes went 
into quarter hours, and the quarters finally into an 
hour. 

“What in creation is the matter now?” he asked 
himself. “Jerusalem! It can’t be that she is writing 
another English letter.” 

Just then a scroll of paper fluttered down at the end 
of the string. He seized and quickly opened it. His 
worst fears were realized. The missive was written 
in English, if the term may be allowed under the cir- 
cumstances, and read as follows: 


THE CAPTIVE JEANNE 


41 


''My Dear Friend Jules: 

"I may it you name. Isn’t it? Behold, yet one 
time, I you write in the English. I pray you me of it 
do not wish. I am so much proud of my English. I 
it have learned of a lady French, who herself was 
stopped six months at Kalamazoo, U. S. A. Other- 
wise you have said, you yourself, as he is beautiful. I 
you of it know gratitude that you have made one such 
noble offer to kill the Herr Graff. It itself can be, 
however, that it would not be well politics. You 
would be broiled with all the menials of the chateau ; 
which our escape would make exceeding more dif- 
ficulty. It is a beautiful stroke better attending until 
afterward, when you him can call to the field of honor, 
punctuate him with your good epic and so put a 
period to his crimes. I have you seen now three 
times : one time in your car to the side of the road, 
other time when you and your friends regarded the 
castle, yesterday the evening, and yet other time, when 
you yourself was arrested under the castle walls, today 
the morning, with the eyes made fast to my window. 
Truly, you have a good mine, and I myself there con- 
fide well willingly. Forget not of to kill Caspar, take 
the keys and find Ottillie. Hoping that we us ex- 
counter all of following, 

"I rest devoutly, 

"Jeanne.” 

"The poor darling ” exclaimed Waterbury. "This 
is much worse than the other one. It is certainly the 
result of the cruelest labor. I pity her from the bot- 
tom of my heart. Let us see now what she means to 
say. T pray you me of it do not wish,’ rendered ver- 
batim into French, would be: 'Je vous prie ne m’en 
veuillez pas,’ would mean, 'Do not be angry with me 
for it.’ The 'lady French who herself was stopped 
six months at Kalamazoo,’ should have been stopped 
there forever, to prevent her from teaching such Eng- 


42 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


lish. She speaks of the killing of the Herr Graff as 
not 'well politics.’ She probably meant 'very politic.’ 
I have no liking for being 'broiled’ with all the menials 
of the castle. Therefore I shall refrain from killing 
him. Doubtless she wanted to say 'embroiled.’ She 
then says that I can call him out upon the field of honor, 
'punctuate him with my good epic, and so put a period 
to his crimes.’ If I punctuated him, there naturally 
would be a period somewhere. 'Punctuate’ is of course 
'puncture,’ and 'epic,’ now what the devil does 'epic’ 
mean? Great Scott! I have it. 'Epee’ is French for 
'sword,’ but how could she translate 'epee’ into 'epic’? 
She says further on that I have a good mine. I have 
some stock in a mine in Arizona, but it is far from 
good. 'Bonne mine’ is French for 'a good look,’ 'a 
good appearance.’ That is, without doubt, what she 
tried to say. The last part of the letter I can under- 
stand fairly well, even to the end, where she says : 'I 
rest devoutly,’ instead of 'I remain devotedly.’ Poor 
girl ! I must stop her somehow from writing any 
further in her so-called English.” He now wrote : 
"My Dearest Jeanne: 

"I have just had the delightful pleasure of reading 
your last letter. Your English certainly leaves noth- 
ing to be desired. One would think that you were 
born in Kalamazoo. It has, at the same time, a pecu- 
liar style, an uncommon charm which is all its own. 
It reminds me of the English of a beautiful Parisienne 
who writes me quite often. I will not forget your 
directions about killing Caspar, taking the keys from 
him and finding Ottillie. Farewell, my dear girl, until 
we meet. 

"Julius.” 

Her answer to this epistle was written in French 
and translated would read as follows : 


THE CAPTIVE JEANNE 


43 


“M-r. Julius Waterbury: 

“Dear Sir: I have just received your last letter 
and I note what you say about following my instruc- 
tions. You cannot miss Ottillie, as she will be on the 
lookout for you immediately after she sees that Caspar 
has gone into your chamber. She knows every cor- 
ridor and stairway in the chateau and can find her way 
easily through the vaults and underground passages, 
through which, as I before wrote you, we are to make 
our escape. When you kill Caspar, do not let him 
cry out. It would spoil all. I remain, 

“Yours truly, 

“Jeanne.” 

“P. S. How long have you known that beautiful 
Parisienne? Is she your fiancee, and is she a blonde 
or brunette? I myself am dark, though I have blue 
eyes.” 

Waterbury immediately wrote as follows: 

“My Dear Friend Jeanne: 

“She is not my fiancee, and she is a blonde. I have 
known her but a short time. I never have cared very 
much for blondes. They do not appeal to my aesthetic 
sense. I have a fancy for brunettes, and I simply dote 
upon dark girls with blue eyes. I will take care that 
Caspar doesn’t squeak when I give him the coup de 
grace. I expect him very shortly. I await his coming 
with pleasurable anticipation. 

“Julius.” 

He was about to post this letter in the usual way, 
when he caught a glimpse, out of the corner of his eye, 
of three or four feet of pole which protruded out of a 
window on the next floor above him and to his right. 
On the end of the pole there was a hook and, even as 
he caught sight of it, it was drawn in and vanished. 

“Ho, ho!” said he, “Someone contemplates a hold- 
up of the mails.” 


44 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


He at once thrust the note into his pocket and scrib- 
bled another one. 

‘‘My Dear Mademoiselle: 

“I agree with you that nothing can be done tonight. 
I advise you to get a good sleep, and I promise you 
that tomorrow I will find a way of interviewing the 
Count and making him set you at liberty. I had very 
little sleep myself last night, so I think that I will 
now lie down for an hour or two. Leave the string 
hanging and I will send you a note when I get up. 
I remain, 

“Very truly yours, 

“J. W.” 

He now attached the letter to the cord and watched 
it ascend. When it was almost out of sight, he saw it 
suddenly zigzagging off to the right, and knew at once 
that it had been caught by the hook on the end of the 
pole. He thrust his head a very little way out of the 
window and caught a glimpse of a man, leaning out of 
the window to the right and above him, and pulling the 
note toward him with the pole. 

“So far, so good,” said he, “and now I will give 
Caspar the surprise of his life.” 

He now took a bear-skin from the floor in front of 
the hearth and rolled it around one of the pillows of the 
four-poster. He then turned back the counterpane and 
deposited his bundle upon the further side of the bed, 
well up against the wall ; covering it with the counter- 
pane, and disposing it so that a rolled up ball of the 
bear skin lay upon the pillow, in imitation of a man’s 
head. He now stood back and contemplated the 
dummy with much satisfaction. 

“Old chap,” said he, “you look as natural as life. 
It’s a shabby trick to make you take my place, but I 
hope you won’t mind it.” 


THE CAPTIVE JEANNE 


45 


There was only one defect in the arrangement. The 
room was altogether too light. He remedied this, 
however, by pulling the curtains of the four-poster 
toward each other, so that there was a space of but 
three or four feet between them. This gave just the 
right amount of obscurity to the recess beyond, and 
insured his scheme against detection. 

^Tn fact,” said he, “ you look more natural than 
when you were alive; as the old lady said about the 
corpse.” 

It was now but a few minutes of six o’clock, and 
Caspar might be expected to arrive at any moment with 
his supper; Waterbury, therefore, took his stand against 
the wall, and to one side of the door, so that he would 
be behind the door when it opened. 

‘T may be wrong,” said he, “but I sort of feel it 
in my bones that something is going to happen to 
Caspar.” 

With this he looked complacently at the weapon 
which he held in his hands. This weapon was a has- 
sock in the end of a pillow case. The hassock was a 
round one, about fifteen inches in diameter and eight 
inches thick, and stuffed with sawdust or something 
equally compact. 

“It will not kill Caspar,” thought Waterbury, half 
regretfully, “but he will certainly know that something 
has hit him.” 

Just then, he heard the faintest kind of a sound, as 
if someone were tiptoeing along the corridor. He 
twisted the pillow case tightly and threw the hassock 
part of it over his shoulder. Then the door opened 
noiselessly and Caspar appeared in the doorway. He 
stood a moment, staring around the apartment, to see 
where Waterbury had gone to. Then he sighted the 
dummy in the bed and, depositing the tray upon the 


46 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


floor, stepped forward upon his toes, to get a nearer 
view. This was Waterbury’s opportunity. He came 
quickly behind Caspar, and swinging his weapon with 
all his force, brought it down upon Caspar’s head. 
Caspar made no remarks, but slipped swiftly to the 
floor, where he lay quietly and peacefully. Waterbury 
listened for his breath, found that he was still alive, and 
picking him up, carried him to the bed and deposited 
him in a comfortable position beside the dummy. • 

‘Tt was a good piece of work,” said he. “Requies- 
cat in pace.” , 

He did not need to search Caspar for the keys, for 
Caspar had left his key in the lock, and a large bunch 
of keys was hanging from it. Having now gone out 
into the hallway, he locked the door, put the bunch of 
keys into his pocket and set out to find Ottillie. She 
was to be on the lookout for him at the end of the 
corridor, but where was the end of the corridor? It 
was a very crooked passage, and twice he came to what 
he supposed was the end of it, only to find that it 
branched off in a new direction. He also came to a 
transverse passage here and there, so that finally, after 
he had wandered around for fully five minutes, he be- 
came very much confused and wondered whether the 
corridor had any end whatever. 

He now heard the tread of heavy footsteps coming 
toward him along one of the lateral passages. There 
were voices too, and it seemed to him that two or three 
men must be approaching. It would not do to be 
found by them. It would certainly prevent him from 
reaching Jeanne and liberating her. He turned and 
sped quickly in the opposite direction, but here too, he 
was met by the sound of coming footsteps. He was 
evidently hemmed in and there seemed no place to 
which he might turn with safety. The steps were 


THE CAPTIVE JEANNE 


47 


drawing near from both directions, and as he paused 
irresolute, a door immediately before him opened, and 
a handsome young woman appeared in the doorway 
and beckoned him to enter. It is almost unnecessary 
to say that he at once availed himself of this harbor 
of refuge. He was none tod quick about it either, for 
scarcely had he entered the chamber, and scarcely had 
the girl closed the door and locked it, before the men 
were passing by. 


CHAPTER IV 
THE GHOST OF HUGO 

He was about to speak, when the damsel put her 
finger to her lips. It was a white and shapely hand 
and her lips were uncommonly red and inviting. She 
was a tawny-haired, blue-eyed girl of some eight and 
twenty years, with a very well developed figure and a 
decidedly pretty and interesting face. She wore a 
maid’s white apron and cap, but the whiteness of her 
skin, especially of her neck and hands, and her other- 
wise dainty appearance bespoke a quality far above her 
station. 

^‘Have you the keys?” she at length asked. She 
spoke in German, with a faultless accent and a low, 
well-modulated voice. Waterbury jingled the keys in 
his pocket, and took them out and gave them to her. 

“Here they are,” said he. 

“What did you do to Caspar?” 

“I hate to. tell you,” he answered. 

“What! you did not kill him?” 

“No, the more’s the pity. I got him from behind. 
If I had looked at his face, I would, without doubt, 
have slain him. You know, of course, what it looks 
like. He is at present resting quietly and is out of 
danger, as the doctors say.” 

Ottillie seemed much relieved. 

“I am so glad that you did not have to kill him,” 
said she. 

“But I thought that Jeanne was anxious for his 
death.” 

“Oh, the poor child is so upset that she doesn’t 
know what she is saying or writing.” 

48 


THE GHOST OF HUGO 


49 


“Speaking about killing people; there is one man 
whom I would really like to kill. I never wanted 
either to kill a man before. That man is the Count, 
the master of this castle. That man deserves death for 
his treatment of that innocent girl. Only let me come 
at him, that is all.” 

“Don’t you dare to touch him,” cried Ottillie. 

“What !” exclaimed Waterbury, with astonishment. 

“If you injure him in the slightest way, you will 
have me to reckon with. I will not permit it.” 

She stood before him threateningly, with heaving 
bosom and flashing eyes. She was thrice as beautiful 
in her anger. 

“I see how it is,” thought he. “The Count is her 
lover, or has been her lover. He has evidently tired 
of her and has abducted Jeanne and brought her to the 
castle that she might be a new plaything for his jaded 
fancy. Truly he is a devil of a man. I now see why 
it is that Ottillie is so bent upon liberating Jeanne. She 
wants to get her out of the way.” 

“Oh, very well,” said he, “since that is the way you 
feel about it, we will spare the Count. Still, I think 
that he well merits punishment. But, be that as it may, 
let us at once seek out Jeanne and set her at liberty.” 

“How can we? You know well enough that all 
the passages are patrolled. We would be discovered 
before we even reached the stairway. We must wait 
a while.” 

Just then, several men came down the corridor and 
paused just outside the door. They were speaking 
forcibly and loudly in German, and every word was 
audible to Waterbury and the girl. 

^'Mein Gott!” said one man, “he must be the devil 
himself. First he slugs Caspar senseless with a sand- 
bag. Then he puts him snugly to bed, escapes from 

4 


50 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


the room and locks Caspar in. Caspar comes to, beats 
on the door, and we have to break it down to let him 
out. Potstausend! what for a kind of a verdammter 
kerl is it? 

‘"Ludwig,” said another man authoritatively, “you 
are a dumkopf. You talk too much. Donnerwetter! 
he cannot have got out of the castle, and it should be 
an easy matter to find him. If you do not catch him, 
you know what the Herr Graff is likely to do to you. 
You, Ludwig, station yourself yonder at the beginning 
of the passage. Hans, you return and guard the other 
end of it. If he tries to pass you, shoot on sight and 
ask questions afterwards. Meanwhile I will arrange 
for watchers in the corridors upon the other side. 
When I have done so, I will return and we will search 
all of these chambers. He may be hiding in one of 
them at this very moment. Now, in God’s name, keep 
your mouths shut and your eyes and ears open.” 

With that, the men departed, each upon his separate 
mission. When the sound of their footsteps had died 
away, Ottillie spoke. 

“You see,” said she, “it is impossible for you to 
get away from here without discovery. Besides this, 
they are coming back to search all the chambers in the 
corridor, and they will probably commence by searching 
this one. There is but one thing to do : you must con- 
ceal yourself.” 

“Why not go out and mix it up a bit with these 
two fellows in the hallway?” he asked. 

“What a silly question ! You would thus lose your 
only chance of setting Jeanne at liberty. They would 
raise such an outcry that you would be quickly laid by 
the heels. Besides this, they might shoot you. That 
is, of course, a secondary consideration, but everything 
must be taken under advisement. No, indeed, it is 


THE GHOST OF HUGO 


51 

imperative that you conceal yourself, and that at 
once.” 

Waterbury looked up and down the chamber to see 
where he might hide himself. It was an immense room, 
fully fifty feet in length and thirty feet in width, and 
he decided at once that it was the armory of the castle. 
The walls were fairly covered with arms of all sorts; 
guns, pistols, swords, rapiers, daggers, battleaxes and 
pikes ; these weapons being arranged and grouped to- 
gether in stars, crescents, crosses and other fanciful 
shapes. Along the lower part of the walls, on either 
side, hung upon hooks, were rows of complete suits of 
plate and chain armour, and down both sides of the 
chamber stretched platforms, upon which stood dummy 
warriors of stuffed leather, also clad in armour. 

'T see no possible way,” said he, “of concealing 
myself in this room.” 

“That,” said she, “is because you are too stupid 
and too deficient in invention. There is a way of 
hiding yourself effectually. It presented itself to me 
the moment that the necessity for it arose. What is 
the matter with your investing yourself, from head to 
foot, with one of those suits of armour which hang 
upon the walls, and taking your stand with the other 
dummies upon the platform? All you would have to 
do would be to keep perfectly quiet. I am sure you 
know enough to do that.” 

“Now, look here, Fraulein Ottillie,” answered 
Waterbury. “I object strenuously to some of the 
terms which you employ. It is all well enough to call 
me silly and stupid. I can pass that up as one of the 
privileges claimed by lovely women when addressing 
mere man. I draw the line, however, at being classified 
with the other dummies. Besides, your plan seems 
to me utterly ridiculous. Furthermore, I don’t like 


52 


THE KIDNAPPED DAM02EL 


it. I would cut a fine figure with all that hardware 
surrounding my anatomy.” 

‘T see, sir, that I must apologize. I used the term 
‘other dummies’ inadvertently. We will cut out the 
word ‘other’ and now I hope that you are satisfied. If 
not, you are hard to please. If you think that the plan 
is ridiculous, what else have you to propose ?” 

Waterbury cogitated for a moment before answer- 

ing. 

“To tell the truth, Fraulein, I can think of nothing 
else.” 

“Then the question is, are you willing to submit 
yourself to the slight inconvenience of it for the sake 
of Jeanne?” 

“If you put it in that way, I suppose that I may 
as well consent to it.” 

“Very well, then. Let us get to it at once. We 
haven’t a minute to lose.” 

She now walked along the wall and examined the 
different coats of armour. 

“Here,” said she, as she stopped in front of a par- 
ticularly heavy and clumsy suit of wrought iron, “is 
a fine, large one. You are certainly six feet tall, and I 
doubt whether any of the others would fit you. Be- 
sides, see how beautifully it is etched and what a lot of 
gold inlaid work there is to it.” 

“Looks to me more like brass,” answered Water- 
bury dubiously. “But I don’t see that it makes much 
difference. However, though, am I going to get it 
on? Seems to me that we ought to have a black- 
smith.” 

“Nonsense, I can help you with it, as I have handled 
the stuff before, and it will go on as easily as an old 
shoe.” 

With Waterbury’s aid she now took down the dif- 


THE GHOST OF HUGO 


53 

ferent pieces of the suit and adjusted them to his 
person. 

“You are putting on the corselet wrong side to,” 
said he. 

“I believe I am,” said she. “It’s lucky you spoke 
of it before I got it bolted.” 

“Look here!” said he. “If you bolt that thing at 
the back, how am I to get it off?” 

“Why, I will unbolt it for you,” she answered, giv- 
ing him at the same time a mischievous smile. 

It was, after all, an exceedingly pleasant thing to 
have the armour fitted to his person by such a charm- 
ing woman. The fitting and the clamping and fasten- 
ing of it brought him, now and then, into contact with 
different parts of her person,' and as often as this hap- 
pened he was conscious of a most pleasurable thrill. 

After the corselet came the gorget, and after the 
gorget came the brassarts, the greaves and a dozen 
other articles. Finally everything was adjusted but 
the helmet, and here they encountered a difficulty. 
After it was on his head and screwed to the gorget, 
they couldn’t open the visor. 

“Suppose I should want to smoke a pipe,” said he. 

“Ha, ha,” she laughed, “say that again. Your 
voice coming through those small slits sounds so ter- 
ribly funny.” 

“I am glad it amuses you. As for my part, I see 
nothing to laugh at.” 

“Ha, ha ha! I could listen to you all night. You 
have no idea what a ridiculous sound it has. As for 
smoking though, you mustn’t think of it.” 

“Thanks, awfully. I have a feeling that I am not 
going to enjoy myself any too well in this light and 
graceful costume. It feels already as if it weighed a 
ton.” , 


54 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


“What difference does it make ? Ha ! ha ha ! what 
difference does it make I say, when you are to wear 
it for so short a time? Step up on to the platform 
now, between these two crusaders, or knights templar, 
or whatever they are, and I will put you in the right 
position.’’ 

She went to the wall and selected a heavy halberd 
or battleaxe, which she handed him. He put it over 
his shoulder and stood at attention. 

“No, not that way” exclaimed she, “you are alto- 
gether too stiff and conventional. Recollect that you 
are not carrying a pickaxe, but a halberd. Rest the 
handle of it upon the floor, throw your weight upon it, 
and assume a graceful, easy and restful attitude.” 

“Say,” said he, “do you think I am taking Delsarte 
lessons ? Do you think that there is anything graceful 
or easy in this wrought iron suit of clothes ? Neverthe- 
less I will try to please you. How does this strike 
•you?” 

“That is better, but try to assume a little more 
nonchalance of pose, a little more what you might call 
insouciance. Hark! didn’t I hear footsteps? Yes, 
there’s the sound again. They are coming to search 
the room, and we are none too soon. I will open the 
door and go out casually, just as they are about to 
enter. My coming to the armory is a common thing 
and they will so regard it. Now remember, do not 
move a hundredth part of an inch, no matter what 
happens. I will return as soon as I may.” 

Saying this, she unlocked the door noiselessly and 
passed out of the chamber. Two men stood directly 
in front of her and one of these spoke to her. 

“Stop a minute, Ottillie. We have something to 
say to you. A man who was made prisoner by the 
Count this morning has escaped from the room where 


THE GHOST OF HUGO 


55 


he was confined, and has concealed himself somewhere 
in this part of the castle. Have you seen a stranger 
anywhere in this locality?” 

‘‘No, I have not, and I wouldn’t tell you if I had. 
Anything more?” 

“Did you see anyone in the armory when you were 
in there?” 

“There’s no one in the armory but a lot of old rusty 
knights. I saw nothing in there in the shape of a 
modern man.” 

“I think that you are lying,” said the man, who 
had hitherto kept silent. 

For answer, Ottillie fetched him a resounding 
smack upon the cheek with the back of her hand. She 
then turned and sped lightly along the hallway. The 
two men now came into the chamber and walked down 
the length of it. As they passed Waterbury, they were 
so close to him that the clothing of one of them' actually 
touched him. They were tall, stalwart fellows, both 
of them wore black masks over their eyes, and each 
carried in his right hand a big forty-four cavalry 
revolver, about a foot and a half long. They peered 
from right to left into the shadows of the room, and 
one of them said : 

“If you see him, shoot to kill. That will please the 
Herr Graff better than anything else. If we take him 
alive, the Herr Graff will not know what to do with him 
in the end. There are plenty of places in the vaults 
where we can store the body, so that it wouldn’t be 
found in a hundred years. 

“I thought I saw one of those figures in armour 
move,” said the other. “That big chap up there near 
the door. Say, I don’t like this place any too well. 
Let’s get out of here. There isn’t a nook where he 
could hide anyway.” 


56 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


“Ludwig, the trouble with you is that you have 
too much imagination. Not one of these old iron- 
bound curmudgeons has made a move in four hundred 
years; unless it’s old Von Drachenburg’s ghost, and a 
ghost doesn’t count. Well, let’s go on to the next 
room.” 

The two men now passed up the chamber again, 
and as they came to Waterbury, one of them stopped 
and peered at him long and searchingly. 

“I’ve a good mind to put a bullet through this one 
just for luck,” said he. 

“Oh, come along,” said the other, “and don’t make 
a fool of yourself.” 

It was a trying moment, but Waterbury stood as 
motionless as a rock, and at length the men passed from 
the chamber and shut the door. 

“Holy smoke!” said Waterbury, “that man will 
never know how near he came to having his head cleft 
in twain by a battle axe. If I had it upon my shoulder, 
I couldn’t have resisted the temptation.” 

He now sat down upon the platform, with a good 
deal of rasping and squeaking of iron against iron, and 
felt for his pocket to get out his pipe. 

“Blame it all,” he exclaimed, “I can’t even get at 
my pocket. I wonder what those old duffers did for 
pockets anyway. I wish the girl were here to unbolt 
me. Why in thunder doesn’t she come?” 

It was all of a quarter hour before Ottillie appeared. 
She explained the delay, however, by saying that Lud- 
wig, Hans and their leader had but just left the cor- 
ridor, and that it would have been unwise for her to 
come before. 

“Well, get to work,” said he, “and take these pots 
and pans ofiF. I’ve stood it as long as I care to, and 
patience has ceased to be a virtue.” 


THE GHOST OF HUGO 


57 


‘‘Have patience a little longer/’ said she. 

“What!” said he. 

“I say have patience a little longer. The hallways 
on this side of the castle are now free of watchers, and 
we can gain Jeanne’s chamber in three minutes. If we 
should wait to disarm you, we might lose our chance. 
Once in Jeanne’s room, I will see that you are released 
at once of your incubus. Come, let us make a dash 
for it.” 

“But what if we meet any of those Dutchmen? 
What will they think of a man walking about the castle 
in a steel tailor-made suit?” 

“That’s just it. They won’t know what to think. 
They will never think anyway that ‘it’s the man they 
are after. So you see it’s a great deal better to go as 
you are. Besides, if they happen to shoot at you, it’s 
two to one that the bullets will bound off your armour 
like hail from a tin roof.” 

“I don’t know about that. But anyway, perhaps 
your plan is the best. So lead on, Macduff, and I will 
follow as best I may.” 

They now left the armoury and went down the cor- 
ridor, Ottillie taking the lead. When they had walked, 
as it seemed to Waterbury, about a quarter mile, doub- 
ling and turning and taking several cross passages, they 
came to a stairway. 

“Remain here for a minute,” said Ottillie, and I 
will go upstairs and see if all is clear. Do not move 
until I return.” 

Left to himself, Waterbury at first stood motion- 
less. Presently, however, finding it irksome to remain 
in one position, he paced up and down and back and 
forth, in front of the stairway. He made so much 
noise in doing so that he did not hear footsteps of a 
man who was coming toward him along the hallway, 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


58 

until he was within twenty feet of him. When the 
man saw Waterbury, he gave a fearful yell and turned 
and fled with incredible swiftness in the direction 
whence he came. 

“That’s queer,” said Waterbury. “What does he 
think I am, anyway?” 

He was still wondering about the matter when he 
perceived another man approaching from the opposite 
direction. This man, also, when he looked up and 
perceived Waterbury, gave utterance to a frightful 
howl and turned and fled, with the great leaps and 
bounds of a terrified jack rabbit, until he had disap- 
peared around a turn. 

“What the dickens is the matter with these fel- 
lows?” thought Waterbury. “Have they gone crazy, 
or am I seeing things?” 

There was a lateral corridor which branched off 
to the left. Down this corridor, presently there came 
three more men. When they got within thirty feet or 
so, and caught a glimpse of Waterbury, it was the 
same thing over again : They rent the air with their 
cries, and turned about, and stood not upon the order 
of their going. Presently they all three came to where 
the passage was narrowed with an arch, and the open- 
ing not being wide enough for them to pass abreast, 
they collided with each other and fell to the floor, a 
tangled heap of bodies, legs and arms. 

At this so ludicrous a sight, Waterbury began to 
laugh, and the more he laughed, the more they 
squirmed and howled, and the more they squirmed and 
howled, the more he laughed. His laughter, coming 
from the barred visor of his helmet, was a cross be- 
tween the bray of a jackass and the shriek of a calliope, 
and this unearthly sound seeming to add to their terror, 
they struggled and cried out still more desperately 


THE GHOST OF HUGO 


59 

until finally one of them broke away, and then another, 
and presently all had vanished. 

“Well, what do you think of that?” said Water- 
bury. 

He was still holding his sides and clinging to the 
newel post for support when Ottillie came tripping 
down the stairway. 

“I heard footsteps,” said she, “with laughter and 
shouting. Has somebody been here?” 

“I should think so” answered Waterbury. “In 
fact, several somebodies have been here.” 

He then gave her an account of what had hap- 
pened. “They must think,” he added, “that I am the 
devil himself. The mere sight of me creates a panic. 
Who am I anyway? What is the answer to it?” 

“I can't imagine,” Ottillie answered, “unless it is — 
but that is too ridiculous. Yet the more I think of it 
— now I wonder if it could really be. Yes, it must be 
so.” 

“Oh, of course, certainly, without doubt. But 
won’t you have the kindness to tell me what you are 
talking about?” 

“Why, they took you for the ghost of old Hugo 
von Drachenburg. You see, in fact, you are wearing 
his armour. I forgot to tell you when I put it on you. 
It’s a head taller than all the other armour, and they 
knew you at once.” 

“Thunder, you don’t say. Do you know, Fraulein 
Ottillie, that I am beginning to like old Hugo? He 
has done me a lot of good already. I never laughed so 
much in my life. It was great fun.” 

“Yes, but think of those poor men. Hugo von 
Drachenburg’s ghost has been walking these corridors, 
off and on, for four hundred years. Furthermore, 
whenever he appears there is bound to be a death in 


6o 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


the castle within twenty-four hours. I believe that this 
statement is supported by the record. Now, do you 
wonder at the demoralization you have wrought?” 

“Say, Fraulein Ottillie, tell me one thing. When 
you selected this suit of ironmongery, and insisted upon 
my wearing it, did you, or did you not have in mind 
this very eventuality?” 

Ottillie turned away her head to hide a smile. 

“Just a teeny weeny idea of it may have come to 
me,” said she. 

Waterbury and Ottillie now set out to find Jeanne’s 
chamber. After they had gone up the stairway and 
had traversed numerous corridors and made several 
turnings, they came to the room in question. Ottillie 
took the keys from her small handbag and, after trying 
several in the lock, found the right one, and unlocked 
the door. 

“You go in first,” said she. 

Waterbury opened the door, stepped into the 
chamber and found himself looking at the loveliest girl 
in the world. 


CHAPTER V 

THE DEATH OF CASPAR 

One of the impossible things in writing a story is 
to describe a beautiful woman, so that the reader will 
have a concrete and correct idea of her appearance. 
Therefore, it were far better, in most cases, if the 
description were left out altogether. Since, however, 
most readers, and especially the female nine-tenths, 
insist on some sort of an enumeration of the heroine’s 
points, a concession will be made to them, and the fol- 
lowing inventory given of the different items of her 
person. 

Firstly, she had two eyes, of a blue-gray color, 
which were impish, or mocking or melting, to fit the 
occasion. Secondly, she had one nose, which was just 
the least little mite retrousse. Thirdly, she had two 
eyebrows which were arched and black. Fourthly, she 
had two small ears. Fifthly, she had two lips, reason- 
ably red, the nether one rather full, and the other short 
and curving upward, which gave her a mutinous look. 
Sixthly, she had two cheeks, but only one of them had 
a dimple, and that only when she smiled. Seventhly, 
she had one neck, which was very round and smooth. 
Eighthly, she had two well shaped arms and two small 
firm hands. Ninthly, the skin of her hands and neck 
and face were velvety and of just the right tint of 
white. Of the rest of her person nothing really ac- 
curate is known, as it was covered with a tight-fitting 
gray jacket, or whatever the women call it, and a skirt 
of the same color. To judge by outward appearance, 
however, her figure was of medium height, and some- 

61 


62 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


what slender ; the lines of it, however, being gracefully 
and sinuously curved. 

This description may not give the reader the idea 
that Jeanne was the loveliest girl in the world, but 
Waterbury, who saw her, always said she was, and he 
was a good judge, having seen many thousands of 
them. 

When Jeanne first saw Waterbury, she shrank 
away from him and her eyes were dilated with astonish- 
ment and perhaps a little fear. It would seem strange 
to see a man making a morning call in evening dress, 
and if a man should go to a dance in a golf suit, it 
would cause comment. When, however, a man clothes 
himself in a complete suit of plate armour and makes 
an evening call upon a young lady, what must she 
think ? 

“Nom de Dieu !” exclaimed she, “qu’est ce que 
c’est?” 

“This is Mr. Waterbury,” said Ottillie, with an 
introductory wave of the hand. 

“Ciel! se pent il que ce soit son costume d’ordi- 
naire?” 

“No, that is not his ordinary costume,” said Ottillie. 

She then explained to Jeanne the reason why 
Waterbury was thus accoutred cap-a-pie, and she also 
gave an account of his meeting with the menials, and 
how they had taken him to be the ghost of old Hugo 
von Drachenburg, and of their terror-stricken howls 
and panic flight. 

“Je voudrais bien Tavoir vu,” said Jeanne, “ca 
m’aurais fait une plaisir exquise.” 

“I hate to interrupt you,” said Waterbury to 
Ottillie, “and I do not wish to hurry you at all, but, 
if it is perfectly convenient, would you mind helping 
me off with this steel suit of summer wear which I 


THE DEATH OF CASPAR 


63 


have been carrying around here for the last hour?” 

^‘Le pauvre Monsieur W.aterbury!” exclaimed 
Jeanne, “II s’est bien enrhume. Cette cuirasse la doit 
avoir une froideur horrible.” 

“No, he hasn’t caught cold,” said Ottillie, “it’s the 
barred visor of his helmet which makes his voice sound 
so funny. I could listen to him talk by the hour. You 
must pardon me, Herr Waterbury, but I can’t unfasten 
you even now. I forgot to bring the wrench.” 

“Wrench! what wrench?” Waterbury groaned. 

“The small monkey wrench which goes with the 
suit. I left it in the armoury. I will go, however, 
and fetch it at once.” 

“Comment cela!” exclaimed Jeanne, “Une petite 
singe qui accompagne I’armure ! Ma fois ! c’est fort 
amusante! Je vous prie de me I’apporter tout de suite. 
Je suis affole des singes.” 

“No, Miss Jeanne, there is no monkey at all. We 
were simply speaking of a tool with which to unbolt 
Herr Waterbury. Make yourself ready. Miss Jeanne, 
for there is no time to lose, and we must hasten away 
the moment I return from the armoury.” 

“We do not go, however,” said Waterbury firmly, 
“until you have removed this boiler plate.” 

“I did not mean that we should,” answered Ottillie. 

Having said this, she passed out and shut the door 
and locked it. 

“She has locked us in,” observed Waterbury. 

“It has that annearance,” answered Jeanne, in ex- 
cellent German. “You seem astonished that I speak to 
you in this language. It is nothing. The fact is that I 
speak German almost as well as English. I thought it 
best to keep the knowledge of this from the people in 
the castle, not excepting Ottillie. She is a very good 
girl, however, and I am getting to trust her implicitly.” 


64 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


Jeanne now put on an arch look and dropped her 
German. 

^‘Perhaps it you would please better, when I the 
Englis spik.” 

Waterbury hastily assured her that it would not. 

‘‘Very well, then,” said Jeanne, “German it shall 
be. I suppose, after all, you must get frightfully tired 
of that horrible old English, though it has its good 
points; for that matter, all languages have. German, 
for instance, is the best language with which to conceal 
one’s thoughts.” 

“I have always thought so myself,” said Water- 
bury. “Now, what, in your opinion, is the French 
language best adapted to?” 

“French is, by all means, the best language for 
making love in.” 

“I have no doubt that you are fully qualified to say 
so, for you must have had a lot of experience.” 

“On the contrary, I have never been made love to 
in my life.” 

“You astonish me,” said Waterbury, surveying her 
appraisingly. “From all indications, I should say that 
you will not lack the experience for long. Now, about 
the English language; in what particular way does 
that excel?” 

“English is the best language for swearing.” 

“Right you are, though you have not the appearance 
of knowing much about such matters. And now. Miss 
Jeanne, kindly tell me all the details of your abduction. 
We will soon be out of the power of the villain who 
has entrapped you, and if you will give me full informa- 
tion on the subject, I shall take steps, the moment we 
are free from this rotten old castle, to put him behind 
the bars.” 

“Put him behind the bars? Is that all? Why, I 


THE DEATH OF CASPAR 65 

thought we could have him guillotined, or hung, or 
garroted at the least.” 

“Fm afraid not. But proceed with your story.” 

“Well, it was this way: I had never seen the 
Count, but he had seen me in church, at least, that is 
what he said, though I don’t see how he could have 
done so, as I haven’t been there in some months. He 
says that he fell in love with me from seeing me in 
church.” 

“It was very natural that he should.” 

“You mustn’t interrupt me. Yesterday afternoon 
he came with a large black touring car to the convent 
of Saint Cecilia, three miles beyond Wiesbaden, where 
I was boarding, and sent me in a note from one of my 
relatives in Wiesbaden, in which she asked me to come 
to her at once. What could I do? Besides, I wanted 
the motor ride. The mother superior gave her consent 
and off we went, the count sitting on the front seat 
with the driver, and I alone in the tonneau. When we 
arrived at Wiesbaden, the car did not enter the city, 
but made a wide detour around it and passed on. I 
asked the Count where we were going, and he said that 
we were going to the end of the world. I said : ‘You 
may be going there, but I’m not.’ With that, he 
stepped over into the tonneau and sat beside me. 
There were some people passing just then in another 
car and I stood up and called out to them, but he pulled 
me down into the seat and clapped his hand over my 
mouth.” 

“What did you do then?” 

“I stuck a hat-pin into him.” 

“Then what did he do?” 

“He swore.” 

“I should think he would. And what happened 
after that?” 

5 


66 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


“After that I saw you sitting in your car by the 
side of the road, and tried to attract your attention/’ 

“You did.” 

“Then we arrived at the castle and I was cooped 
up in this chamber. Twice the Count has been here 
and offered me freedom if I would marry him. I 
spurned him. Ottillie was sent in to me regularly to 
act as my maid, and I very soon enlisted her sympathies 
in my behalf.” 

“It is outrageous in the extreme. When we are 
out of this, we must communicate at once with your 
parents. In their sheltering care you will soon forget 
your sufferings. Besides, they will want to take a 
hand in his punishment.” 

“I have no parents. I am an orphan, in fact, I 
have no one to care for me.” 

She looked sadly away, and Waterbury thought, 
but was not certain, that her eyes were suffused with 
tears. He was upon the point of saying that he him- 
self would care for her, but restrained himself from so 
doing by the thought that it would be an awkward 
matter for a young man of thirty to care for a hand- 
some girl of twenty. 

“How old a man is this Count?” asked Waterbury. 

“I should think that he was about your age ; though 
he may be a trifle older.” 

“And I had the idea that he was an oldish man. 
What kind of a looking fellow is he?” 

“Oh, he is not half bad. Many girls would simply 
rave over him. I can’t bear him. Whenever I am 
angry, he laughs at me.” 

Waterbury pondered the matter for a moment. The 
man was evidently young, gay and handsome, notwith- 
standing that he was a villain. The fact that the Count 
was possessed with these attributes filled him with re- 


THE DEATH OF CASPAR 


67 


sentment, and a curious and disagreeable feeling com- 
menced to pervade his anatomy, a feeling v^hich he had 
never experienced before. Was it possible that he was 
becoming jealous of the Count ? Perish the thought ! If 
he was jealous, it would show that he was in love with 
the girl, and that was nonsense. He liked her of course, 
who would not? But he was not in love with her. 

Foolish Waterbury ! At that moment he stood in 
a situation of dire and imminent peril, and he didn’t 
know it. 

“Do you know,” remarked Jeanne, “I think that 
Ottillie is in love with the Count?” 

“I have noticed it myself,” said Waterbury. “When 
I spoke of chastising him, she was frightfully angry 
with me.” 

“And the Count, in his way, seems to be fond of 
Ottillie. I even saw him kiss her. They were in the 
corridor, just outside the open door, and were not 
aware that I saw them.” 

“I can’t understand it. He must be a regular blue- 
beard.” 

“What a delightfully wicked man ! There! is prob- 
ably a closet somewhere hereabouts where all his dead 
wives are hanging by the neck. Poor Ottillie! She 
may soon be hanging there herself.” 

“Yes, there are probably several vacant hooks in 
that closet.” Waterbury gazed contemplatively at 
Jeanne’s white and shapely neck. 

“What are you staring at my neck for in that way? 
You are thinking, I suppose, how I would look on one 
of those hooks. You give me the creeps.” 

“I was thinking of nothing of the kind. I was 
simply admiring your neck.” 

“Well, you took a very inopportune moment for 
doing it.” 


68 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


Jeanne was lost in thought for a time, and then 
said irrelevantly: 

“It will be lots of fun when I get back to the con- 
vent.” 

“Then you are going back to the convent?” 

“Certainly, I am going back, if only to crow over 
the other girls. Just think of what a story I will have 
to tell. First, I am run away with by a wicked Count, 
in a motor car; then I am imprisoned in a moldy old 
castle, and finally am rescued by a brave knight, clad 
in complete armour. It will make them die of envy, 
especially Clara Letzinsky. Clara always said that she 
came of a noble Polish family. One of the girls, how- 
ever, who has a cousin living in Poland, told me that 
Clara’s father is a Hebrew clothing merchant in War- 
saw. Clara has been the envy of all the girls since she 
came back from Paris with a story of two French 
noblemen fighting a duel about her in the Bois de 
Boulogne. One of them, according to her, actually 
cut a piece of the other one’s ear off with his sword.” 

“More likely bit it off,” said Waterbury. 

“I think it highly probable. To tell you the truth, 
and this in confidence, ninety-nine out of a hundred 
of these so called French noblemen are impostors. 
They are regarded simply as a joke. I suppose it is 
very different in America.” 

“In America there are no titles.” 

“Madame Rambouillet, our English teacher, says 
differently.” 

“Is Madame Rambouillet the French lady who was 
stopped six months at Kalamazoo?” 

“The very same. She says that in America there 
are many pork barons, oil magnates and steel kings. 
When you first came into the chamber, I own that I 
thought you might be a steel king.” 


THE DEATH OF CASPAR 69 

“A steel king knows better than to wear his own 
goods,” said Waterbury. 

‘T was at first vexed,” said Jeanne, “that you should 
think it necessary to wear armour when you came to 
see me.” 

“You should take it as a compliment to your 
charms, because I found it necessary to protect myself 
against them.” 

“Do I then look so very dangerous?” 

As Jeanne said this, she put on the kind of look 
which tempts a man to seize a girl and kiss her. 

It was growing dark as Ottillie returned. She had 
been absent for fully twenty minutes, and she apolo- 
gized by saying that she could not sooner find the 
wrench. The two girls now busied themselves in tak- 
ing off Waterbury ’s armour. It was a delightful ex- 
perience to have two such charming women fussing so 
intimately about his person, and he wished that it might 
have lasted longer. It reminded him of a picture he 
had once seen, entitled “Venus disarming Mars.” 
When all the different pieces had been removed, they 
made quite a pile upon the floor. 

“Send for an old-iron dealer,” said Waterbury. 
“He can have it for half a cent aj pound. Now that I 
have got those pots and pansi off, I feel like a different 
man.” 

“You certainly look like one,” said Jeanne, who 
was surveying him appreciatively. 

“He compares very favorably with the Count,” 
said Ottillie. 

“Please do not compare him with the Count,” re- 
torted Jeanne. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you something,” said Ottillie 
to Waterbury. “I have some very bad news for 
you.” 


70 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


“Fire away with it. I feel that I can stand any- 
thing, now that I am rid of that junk.” 

“What do you think? Caspar is dead.” 

“Caspar dead! poor beggar! I can’t believe it. 
Why, those men in the corridor said that he came to 
after I had tapped him, and kicked and beat upon the 
door, until they let him out. That was pretty lively 
for a corpse. What?” 

“All the same, he is now deceased. A quarter of 
an hour after he got out, he was telling the women 
servants about it when suddenly he crumpled up and 
fell to the floor dead.” 

“Perhaps he is merely playing ’possum.” 

“Alas! I wish he were. What did you hit him 
with?” 

“A pillow case.” 

“A pillow case! How ridiculous! Is this a time 
for jesting?” 

“There was something in the end of it.” 

“I’ll warrant there was. What was it, a brick, or 
a beer-stein? Not, however, that it matters much. 
Now there is one phase of the affair which makes it 
a trifle less serious. During the last few months, the 
poor man has had several attacks of heart failure. It 
is possible that, while suffering from one of these at- 
tacks, Caspar passed away.” 

“It must have been heart failure. I know that I 
didn’t hit him half as hard as I might have hit him.” 

“Oh, what difference does it make?” exclaimed 
Jeanne. “He’s dead and that’s the end of it.” 

“It makes all the difference in the world,” answered 
Ottillie. “Of course the Count will wish to put the 
most serious construction upon Caspar’s death and the 
manner of it. He has summoned the coroner and they 
are going over the matter now. The servants are in 


THE DEATH OF CASPAR 


71 


a panic and are huddled together in the kitchen and 
lower halls. The appearance of old Hugo von Dra- 
chenburg’s ghost and the swiftly ensuing death of 
Caspar have thrown them into a blue funk, so that the 
Count can do scarcely anything with them. There 
could be no more favorable moment for our escape. 
Let us then hasten.” 

‘T can’t believe that the fellow is dead,” said 
Waterbury. 

‘‘Would you believe it if you saw the corpse?” 
asked Ottillie. 

“I certainly should. Seeing is believing, and it 
would certainly take an ocular demonstration to con- 
vince me.” 

There is nothing easier. Caspar’s remains have 
been laid out, and are now resting upon a bier in the 
transept of the castle chapel. At the other end of the 
chapel, half way between the floor and the ceiling, there 
is a small, curtained balcony, access to which is gained 
by a narrow stairway from the picture gallery. The 
route of our escape happens to lie through the picture 
gallery anyway, and, while we are there, it will be an 
easy matter to ascend to the balcony in the chapel, and 
from this vantage point view what is left of the poor 
man, without risk of discovery. This balcony has been 
used from time immemorial by the lords of the castle, 
when they wished to attend divine service, and the 
curtains are meant to protect them from the prying 
eyes of the menials, vassals and the rabble on the 
benches below.” 

“More likely,” said Waterbury, “the lords of the 
castlei had the curtains put up so that the rabble would 
think their masters were attending divine service, when 
they were really playing pinochle in some other part 
of the building.” 


72 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


“I see that you must have your sacrilegious flings. 
However, there is no time for dillydallying, and we 
must hasten, if you wish to escape from the castle 
tonight. When you gaze upon the deceased and see 
the result of your handiwork, you will doubtless be 
like the man ‘who came to scoff and remained to 
pray.’ ” 

‘T beg pardon, Fraulein Ottillie, but where did you 
get that quotation?” 

“That is from one of our great German poets.” 

“Indeed! Then all I have to say is that one of 
your great German poets is a confounded plagiarist. 
But be that as it may, I agree with you as to the neces- 
sity of leaving the castle at once, that is to say, as soon 
as we have satisfied ourselves that Caspar is not sham- 
ming. Miss Jeanne, are you ready?” 

Jeanne, who had been engaged in packing a hand- 
bag which was about four inches by three inches in 
size, now announced that she was prepared to go, and 
the three of them left the chamber and, under the 
guidance of Ottillie, stole noiselessly down the hallway. 
After they had threaded a number of passages and 
made a number of turns, they came to the stairway 
and descended to the floor below. Here were more 
corridors to traverse and another stairway to descend. 
After which, they came along a broad hall and stopped 
in front of a pair of large arched doors. Here was 
the picture gallery, and when Ottillie had let them in, 
she shut the doors and locked them. 

The picture gallery was a large, high-ceilinged 
chamber, full fifty feet in length. The light of day 
had almost vanished, and the long rows of dingy 
portraits of dead and gone lords and ladies of the 
castle, which covered the walls, were barely discernible. 
Ottillie guided Waterbury and the girl to a narrow 


THE DEATH OF CASPAR 


73 

staircase of open wrought iron work, in one corner of 
the apartment. . 

“Here is where we go up to the balcony,” said she. 

“You two go up, and I will stop here,” said Jeanne. 
“Caspar looked like the devil when he was alive, and 
he must look a whole lot worse now. I can very well 
do without the sight of him.” 

When Ottillie and Waterbury had ascended the 
staircase, Ottillie opened a little door in the wall and 
they stepped through and found themselves in a small 
curtained balcony. From somewhere in the vicinity, 
now rising, now falling, now near and now distant, 
came the voice of an organ in the sad, mysterious 
strains of the Miserere from II Trovatore. 

Parting the curtains, they now looked out into the 
chapel. There was a transept at the other end of it, 
and, in the center of the transept, or rather in the 
choir, there stood a bier, covered with black cloth, upon 
which lay the deceased Caspar. At each corner of the 
bier there was a lighted candle, full four feet high 
and two inches in diameter, so that they had a good 
view of the remains. The hands were clasped upon 
the breast, in an attitude of prayer, and the chalk-like 
hue of the face showed plainly the mark of the grim 
destroyer. 

“He looks dead enough,” said Waterbury. 

“This is not a moment for levity,” said Ottillie. 

“It was not levity. I simply stated a fact.” 

There were two or three mourners kneeling among 
the iDenches, and upon the front bench sat a comely 
young woman, garbed in black. Now and then, she 
dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, but there was 
an undeniable smirk upon her face. 

“That should undoubtedly be the widow,” said 
Waterbury, pointing her out. “The look of satisfac- 


74 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


tion on her face proves it. It is most likely that Caspar 
laid by something handsome.” 

“Well, have you seen enough to satisfy you?” 

“More than enough. I can see by the widow’s 
face that he is dead all right.” 

They now went down the staircase and rejoined 
Jeanne. Ottillie then led them to the other end of 
the gallery and paused before a full length portrait of 
a disreputable old warrior. 

“I must find the hidden spring,” said she. 

After she had fumbled for a while at one side of 
the picture frame, she apparently found what she was 
seeking, for the whole portrait and frame suddenly 
swung outward like a door upon its hinges, revealing 
in the place where it had been, a dark, hollow space, 
and the top steps of a stair, which seemed to descend 
into the bowels of the earth. 

Ottillie had provided herself somehow with a 
candlestick and a wax candle which she now lighted. 
She also had a very large ball of stout twine or cord. 

“What is the twine for?” asked Waterbury. 

“Well, it is this way,” said Ottillie. “These vaults 
are something like the catacombs of Rome. If you 
once get lost in them, it is all night with you. I know 
the way from here to the torture chamber, but from 
there to the secret tunnel which debouches upon the 
river bank, there are so many twists and cross pas- 
sages, that one is almost certain to come to grief. My 
idea is to start out from the torture chamber, first 
making the string fast to some article there, and unroll- 
ing the ball as we go along. If we come to an impasse, 
we can follow the string back, and so are sure of 
always being able to return to the torture chamber.” 

“What a jolly fine place for a rendezvous ! ‘Meet 
me at the Torture Chamber’ ! It sounds so much more 


THE DEATH OF CASPAR 


75 


lively and exciting than ^rneet me at the Fountain’ or 
'meet me at the Monument.’ And I suppose the idea 
is that, if we unroll the ball, the less likelihood there 
is of our being balled up.” 

"You are absolutely silly. Besides, I never heard 
of such an expression.” 

“I suppose not,” said Waterbury. 

Ottillie now took the lead, descending the stairway 
with the candle, and the others followed. Waterbury 
went ahead of Jeanne, and reaching back, took her 
hand, and so they passed down into the moldy vaults 
of Drachenburg castle. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE VAULTS OF DRACHENBURG 

When they had come to the bottom of the stairway, 
they found a stone floor, covered with the dust of 
centuries. Ahead of them, whichever way they turned, 
stretched away a vista of columns and arches, until it 
faded out into the black darkness. Ottillie, bearing 
the candle, passed along with a confident step. Pres- 
ently they came to a row of cells, with iron doors and 
iron grated windows. 

“Here is where they kept the prisoners,” said Ot- 
tillie. 

“Are there any in there now?” asked Waterbury. 

“Not live ones,” said she, “though there may be a 
few bones left. Here is one of the cell doors open. 
We will go in and see.” 

They passed into the cell and Ottillie pointed out 
a large bone lying in one corner. 

“There is all that is left of one of them,” said she. 

Waterbury turned it over and inspected it. 

“These were not cells,” said he, “they were stables.” 

At last they came to a large square chamber with 
heavy, iron strapped, oaken doors and walls at least 
three feet thick. 

“This,” said she, “is the torture chamber. Here 
are the iron boots, and here the thumb-screws, and 
yonder the rack or stretcher.” 

“Where is the dentist’s chair?” asked Waterbury. 

The rack was made of wood, and resembled those 
old-fashioned bedsteads, the kind the country people 
cut in two and make lawn settees of. At one end of 

76 


THE mULTS OF DRACHENBURG 


77 


it was a horizontal drum, about two feet in diameter. 

“The rack was operated in this way,” said Ottillie. 
They tied the wrists of the people to this end, and 
their ankles to the other. Then they turned the drum 
around with levers and gave them a good stretching.” 

“A mighty good thing for short people,” said 
Waterbury. “Undoubtedly better than the methods 
of the quacks who advertise to add an inch or two to 
one’s stature.” 

Jeanne now sat down upon the drum of the rack 
to rest herself. 

“And now,” said Ottillie, “you two stay here, and 
I will proceed to find the secret tunnel. I will tie one 
end of the cord to the rack here, and unwind the ball 
as I go along. In that way I will have no trouble in 
finding my way back. There is no use in all three 
going. You don’t object to being left in the dark, do 
you ?” 

“Not in the least,” answered Waterbury. 

“I’m not a bit afraid,” said Jeanne. 

Ottillie now made the cord fast to the rack and 
passed out of the chamber, unwinding the ball as she 
went. Soon the light of the candle vanished and the 
sound of her footsteps died away in the distance. 
Waterbury had taken his seat upon the drum of the 
rack, at the side of Jeanne. 

“What are you doing with the cord?” asked Jeanne. 

“I am tying it to my ankle, so we will know when 
Ottillie is coming back.” 

“Of course, we will want to know if she is safe,” 
said Jeanne. 

“Of course,” said Waterbury. 

“Why did you not answer my last note?” 

“I did answer it, but, just as I was fastening it to 
the string, I saw that the enemy was preparing to cap- 


78 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


tiire it; so I thrust it into my pocket and substituted 
a decoy letter. It was this decoy letter which led Cas- 
par to his doom.” 

“Have you the original note with you?” 

“Yes, it is in my pocket.” 

“Please let me have it.” 

Waterbury found the missive and handed it to 

her. 

“What did you say in it,” asked she. 

“In the first place, I answered your questions about 
the beautiful Parisienne. I wrote you that she was 
not my fiancee, that she was a blonde, that I did not 
care for blondes, and that I simply doted upon dark 
girls with blue eyes. I concluded by assuring you that 
I would give Caspar his coup de grace, so that he would 
die peaceably and without making an outcry.” 

“Of course I didn’t really care about your Paris- 
ienne; in fact, it was none of my business anyway. 
I simply asked about her because you said that my 
English reminded you of her. You haven’t really told 
me what you think of my English.” 

“I think that it is beyond criticism. It is a pity 
that you know English so well, as otherwise I might 
make a bargain with you.” 

“What kind of a bargain?” 

“I would teach you English and you could teach 
me French.” 

“What do you want to know French for?” 

“Didn’t you say that French was the best language 
to make love with?” 

“Oh, so you want to make love to someone ! Whom 
do you want to make love to?” 

“Naturally, to a girl.” 

“Ah, I see. You want to make love to that red- 
headed French girl.” 


THE VAULTS OF DRACHENBURG 


79 


‘T don’t remember mentioning a red-headed girl.” 

“No, but you spoke of a blonde girl, and ten to one, 
she is red-headed. I don’t see what men see in red- 
headed women.” 

“I was thinking of making love to a dark girl with 
blue eyes.” 

“Well, as long as you only think about it, it won’t 
do her much good.” 

“Still, a little thinking is quite necessary. One 
wants to come to some kind of an idea of how she will 
take it.” 

“I suppose that all the girls you have made love to 
have told you beforehand that it would be agreeable. 
The idea!” 

“You speak as if I made love indiscriminately and 
in a wholesale manner. This is far from the truth.” 

“You show all the ear-marks of it, with your dark 
girls and your red-headed girls and your beautiful 
Parisiennes.” 

“Of course, if a man is very much in love, he 
doesn’t stop to consider how it will be taken.” 

“This doesn’t seem to be your case, for you still 
appear to be thinking.” 

“I am not thinking as to whether I shall make love 
to the girl. That is already settled. I was simply 
thinking how I should make love to her.” 

“It is a pity that you do not speak French. If you 
did you might practice upon me in that language. I 
simply abhor love making in German. Suppose, for 
instance, one should say : *Mein schoenes Liebchen ! Ich 
liebe dich so herzlich, dass ohne dich, Ich nicht leben 
mochte, sag mir, Schazchen op du mich liebe. Wilst 
du mir ein siissen kuss geben, um mir zu zeigen dass 
du meine Liebe erwidere.’ Doesn’t it sound fright- 
fully mushy?” 


8o 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


“But I can say that in French.” 

“Let me hear you.” 

“Ma belle mignonne. Je t’aime avec tant de bon 
coeur, que, sans toi Je ne pourrais pas vivre. Dites 
moi, ma Cherie, si tu m’aimes. Veux me donner un 
doux baiser, pour me montrer que tu reponds a mon 
amour. Si tu ne me I’accordes pas, Je le prendrai tout 
de meme.” 

“That isn’t fair. You have added something to the 
end of it.” 

“All is fair in love.” 

“Do you know? I have a very funny idea.” 

“What is it?” 

“I have the idea that you are really making love to 
me.” 

“I see nothing funny about it.” 

“No, not exactly funny, but you must acknowledge 
that it is somewhat strange; as you have only known 
me a few hours.” 

“A man might fall in love with you in less time 
than that.” 

“Nevertheless, I have never had it happen. No, 
you need not put your arm around me. That might 
do with red-headed girls, or beautiful Parisiennes. 
Besides, I think that I hear Ottillie returning.” 

“I feel no pull upon the cord.” 

“But are you sure that you could feel it?” 

“Without doubt. If she took up the cord and fol- 
lowed it back, there! would certainly be a pull to it.” 

“What a gloomy place this is. It is actually 
dreadful.” 

“I see nothing gloomy or dreadful about it. In 
my mind it is heavenly.” 

“Who could imagine anybody making love in an 
ancient torture chamber? Just think of the tragedies 


THE VAULTS OF DRACHENBURG 8i 

which have been enacted here. It makes my flesh 
creep.” 

'T can imagine a tragedy worse than any of 
them.” 

“And what would that be?” 

“If I should find that you didn’t care for me.” 

“How ridiculous! There! did you hear that 
sound? It was like a footstep. Yet it could not be 
Ottillie. I am sure there are ghosts here. What could 
be more likely in such a place?” 

“I heard nothing. If you really heard a footstep, 
it could not have been that of a ghost, as ghosts make 
no noise whatever.” 

“Nevertheless, I am sure I heard something. How 
dark it is! It seems darker than it was at first. It 
makes me shiver. I think, I really think that I would 
like to ask a favor of you.” 

“Ask me anything. I would dearly like to have 
you.” 

“I would not ask it if it were broad daylight, and 
you could see my face. But I feel so frightened. 
Would you please hold my hand?” 

“Rather.” 

Waterbury reached out, and without trouble, found 
and clasped a small, well-shaped hand. It was just 
firm enough and just soft enough, just cool enough 
and just warm enough. Something like an electric 
current passed from her hand into his own and then 
radiated to all parts of his system, filling him with a 
mysterious and over-powering, yet delightful thrill. 
There was a faint suspicion of the odor of violets about 
the girl. Waterbury had noticed it before. It seemed 
somehow in keeping with her general loveliness. 

“What is your answer to my question, Jeanne?” 
“Did you ask me a question?” 

6 


82 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


‘‘Now that I think of it, I may not have actually 
asked it” 

“How thoughtless of you/' 

“That is to say, I may not have asked it in words." 

“Perhaps you asked it in sign language. It’s 
rather dark for that; don’t you think?" 

“You know, Jeanne, what I wanted to ask you." 

“How silly ! I haven’t the least idea in the world." 

“What does a man in love usually ask a girl?” 

“I have never been a man in love; so I do not 
know." 

“And yet, come to think of it, I did actually ask you 
the question. I asked it in French. I said, if you 
will remember : “Dites moi, ma cherie, si tu m’aimes. 
Veux me donner un doux baiser, pour me montrer que 
tu responds a mon amour." 

“Yes, but that was simply a quotation." 

“But supposing that it were actually a question, 
would you give me the kiss ?’’ 

“I would have to think about it first." 

“But I want to know now, Jeanne." 

As Waterbury spoke, he put his arm upon her 
shoulder to draw her nearer him. At that very mo- 
ment there was a pull at the cord, Jeanne started up, 
Waterbury ’s leg was jerked outward, and he toppled 
back into the rack and upon the floor. Just then 
Ottillie appeared at the entrance of the chamber, with 
the candle in her hand. 

“Pardon me," said Ottillie. “I thought I tied the 
cord to the bedstead, I mean the rack. What a funny 
mistake to make. It was awfully careless of me." 

“Don’t mention it," said Waterbury. 

“What luck did you have?" asked Jeanne. 

“Not so good as you, apparently. I went the 
length of the cord, aii eighth of a mile, more or less, 


THE VAULTS OF DRACHENBURG 83 

and found no tunnel whatever. We must try again in 
a new direction. My candle, as you see, is about 
burned away, and I will have to light a new one.” 

She produced another candle from a reticule, which 
she carried, and proceeded to light it. During the 
operation, the candlestick fell to the floor and the flame 
was extinguished. Waterbury handed her his match- 
box and she struck a match and lighted her candle. 

“You two will go along this time,” said she. ‘T 
think that you will be safer with me.” 

• Ottillie now again made fast the cord to the rack, 
and the three set out to find the secret tunnel. Ottillie 
went first, holding the candle and unrolling the ball, 
Waterbury came next and Jeanne brought up the rear. 
After they had gone some distance, passing through 
several chambers and turning two or three corners, 
they came to a very strong vault with an arched door- 
way. 

“This is the gunpowder magazine,” said Ottillie. 
“In that vault are stored a hundred kegs or more of 
gunpowder.” 

“It is a pity we haven’t a fuse,” said Jeanne. 

“What would you do with it?” asked Waterbury. 

“We could make a hole in one of the bottom kegs 
and insert the fuse. Then, when we found the tunnel 
and were certain of getting away. Monsieur Waterbury 
could come back and light the fuse.” 

“You are an altruist,” said Waterbury. “You are 
thoughtful of the good of others. You wish to exert 
an elevating influence on the inhabitants of the castle. 
For that matter, a candle is just as good as a fuse. We 
could knock the head out of one of the kegs, stick a 
candle upright in the powder, and after we had found 
the tunnel, I could come back and light it. That would 
give us plenty of time to get away.” 


84 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


‘Tt is probably against the law/’ said Ottillie. 

“I never thought of that,” answered Waterbury. 
“It is just possible that it might involve us in legal 
complications.” 

“It is a pity,” said Jeanne. 

After they had marched along for something like 
five minutes, Waterbury looked behind him to see how 
Jeanne was doing. Jeanne had vanished. 

“Fraulein Ottillie!” he cried. “Stop a moment. 
Jeanne is no longer with us.” 

“Where is she then?” 

“Search me,” said Waterbury. 

“Search you! What do you mean by such non- 
sense?” 

“I meant that I didn’t know where she was.” 

“Then why didn’t you say so? She has probably 
gone back for something. What a thoughtless girl !” 

“I will go back after her,” said Waterbury. 

“Then you had better take the candle. It will be 
a difficult matter to find your way without it.” 

“No, I would not leave you here alone in the dark- 
ness. I can follow the cord and strike a match now 
and then.” 

Waterbury now took up the cord, and letting it 
slip through his hand as he walked, went back to find 
Jeanne. After he had returned perhaps half way to 
the torture chamber, he went to strike a match, but 
found that his matchbox was missing. He now recol- 
lected having giving it to Ottillie when her candle went 
out. However, a very happy expedient occurred to 
him. He gave the cord three sharp little pulls, and 
at once three answering pulls came from the direction 
of the torture chamber. He then commenced again to 
advance, now and then giving the three signalling pulls, 
and as often getting them back from the other end. 


THE mULTS OF DRACHENBURG 85 

Presently he came into collision with something soft 
and yielding. There was an odor of violets. He 
put his hands up and felt, first, the silken puffs and 
curls of a girl’s head, next, two small ears and a round 
smooth neck, next, a pair of statuesque shoulders, then 
two round, girlish arms, and finally, he clasped two 
firm and cool little hands. 

‘Ts this a game of blind man’s buff?” asked the 
girl. 

‘Ts it you, Jeanne?” said Waterbury. 

“You should know by this time.” 

“But how did you come to go back?” 

“I stopped to lace my shoe. Then I found that 
the other one needed lacing. When I had finished 
with that, the light had gone and I was in darkness. 
I didn’t want to alarm you, so I didn’t call out. Be- 
sides, I thought it would be an easy matter to overtake 
you by following the cord. I had dropped the cord on 
the floor and it took me an awful time to find it. 
Meanwhile, I had become confused, so that when I did 
find it, I went off in the wrong direction.’' 

“You poor, dear darling. Weren’t you frightened 
at all?” 

“Not very much. You see I knew that you would 
come back after me.” 

“I never would have left the vaults without you. 
Jeanne, now is the time for you to answer my ques- 
tion.” 

“What question? Oh, now I recollect. But I am 
not ready yet to answer it.” 

Waterbury bent down and kissed her upon the 
mouth. 

“You will remember that I said that I would take 
it anyway.” 

“How dare you?” she exclaimed. 


86 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


''Well, you know what you can do about it?” 

"What is that?” 

"You can give it back to me, if you don’t want it.” 

The records do not say whether she gave it back 
or not. 

When they at last rejoined Ottillie, Jeanne ex- 
plained to her how she came to lose herself. 

"And did you get it?” queried Ottillie. 

"Get what?” asked Jeanne. 

"What you went back for ?” answered Ottillie, with 
a laugh. 

Jeanne blushed furiously. 

They now set forth again to find the secret tunnel. 

"Jeanne,” said Ottillie, "this time, you will walk 
next to me and Herr Waterbury will bring up the rear.” 

When they had advanced some distance, they came 
to a chamber with an iron grilled door and window. 

"Unless I am much mistaken,” said Ottillie, "this 
is the wine vault of the chateau. In the bins along 
the wall, covered with cobwebs, there are countless bot- 
tles of rare old wine of priceless value. The Johannis- 
burg alone is worth a fortune.” 

"Is the place locked?” asked Waterbury. 

"Always,” answered Ottillie. 

"What is the use of talking about it then?” 

At last, after an infinite number of turnings and 
twistings, they came to some stone steps which led 
upward. 

"This must be the tunnel,” said Ottillie. "I was 
told that one had to mount a stairway to arrive at the 
tunnel’s mouth.” 

She ascended the steps and Jeanne and Waterbury 
followed her. As Ottillie reached the top, she stumbled, 
the candle fell to the floor and the light was ex- 
tinguished. 


THE VAULTS OF DRACHENBURG 87 


^‘Bother!’' she exclaimed. ‘‘Herr Waterbury, 
reach me a match.” 

“I haven’t any. I gave you my matchbox in the 
torture chamber and you neglected to return it.” 

“Good Heavens! I remember it now. I laid it 
down upon the rail of the stretcher. I know that this 
is the tunnel. What on earth shall we do?” 

“I will go back to the torture chamber and get the 
matchbox,” said Waterbury, resolutely. “I am sorry, 
however, to leave you two girls alone in the dark.” 

“You must not mind us,” said Jeanne, “we will get 
along very well together. It is you I am sorry for. 
You will have a frightful time of it, stumbling along 
through all those interminable passages, with only the 
cord to guide you. I think it would be better if I 
went with you.” 

“It would be worse,” said Ottillie. “You will re- 
main here with me.” 

Waterbury now set out on his return to the torture 
chamber, and soon found that Jeanne had not exagger- 
ated the difficulties of his undertaking. It was fully 
ten minutes before he reached his destination, and it 
seemed to him twice that length of time. After feel- 
ing around for a few moments, he found the matchbox 
in the place where Ottillie had told him she had put it. 
He now commenced his return journey, finding the 
going much easier and quicker, as he could now strike 
a match, here and there, to illuminate his path. 

When he came to the wine vault he was astonished 
to see that the chamber was lighted up and that the 
door was open. 

“Perhaps, here is where I get some of that Johan- 
nisburg,” thought he. 

As he came nearer he perceived a man on the out- 

side of the vault, crouching beneath the grilled window 


88 THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 

As Waterbury approached, the man looked up, saw him 
and took to his heels, vanishing quickly and silently 
in the darkness. Waterbury now came up to the 
window, keeping well within the shadow. As he did 
so another man peered through the grill from the inside. 

“Are you there, Hans?” he whispered. 

“I am here,” whispered Waterbury. 

“Make no noise or the steward will hear you.” 

“He will have to have pretty long ears,” whispered 
Waterbury. 

“He is in back there, laying out the bottles for the 
banquet. He watched me like a cat, but I managed 
to swipe a couple of pints of Johannisburg, i8io.” 

“Good Lord,” thought Waterbury. “The rascal 
has stolen at least forty dollars’ worth of it.” 

“All right! pass them out,” he whispered. 

The man shoved the two bottles through the grill, 
and Waterbury put them in his coat pocket. 

“Mum’s the word,” whispered the man. 

“Mum’s the word,” whispered Waterbury. 

“Till we meet in the guard room,” whispered the 
man. 

“Till we meet in the guard room,” whispered 
Waterbury. 

“It will be a long time, however, before that hap- 
pens,” thought he. 

He now, with a light heart, took up again his 
journey toi the stairway, where he had left Jeanne and 
Ottillie. When he came to the stone steps, he paused 
and listened for their voices, but all was silent. He 
mounted quickly to the top. There was no one there. 

“What has happened now ?” thought he. 

There was an open space in front of him. He took 
a few steps forward and struck a match, and was 
astonished to find that he was in the picture gallery. 


THE VAULTS OF DRACHENBURG 89 


‘‘Could I have come the wrong way?” thought he. 
But, no, he had followed the cord, and the ball, what 
was left of it, lay upon the picture gallery floor. 
“Evidently something is wrong,” thought he. 

His match went out, and just then a whisper 
sounded at his elbow. 

“Hist!” 

“Hist!” said Waterbury. 

“I am Ottillie.” 

“Where is Jeanne?” he asked. 

“Jeanne has been recaptured and all is lost.” 


CHAPTER VII 


THE CASTLE ROOF 

“Come with me and I will tell you all,” said 
Ottillie. 

Waterbury followed her out of the picture gallery 
and down the passage. Ottillie stopped at a door, and 
opening it, entered. Waterbury entered after her and 
she closed the door and locked it. He found himself 
in a small parlor or drawing room, furnished after the 
style of Louis XV. 

“The worst has happened.” 

“It usually does in this confounded castle,” said 
Waterbury. 

“Jeanne, as I told you before, has been retaken, 
and is now once again in her prison chamber. Would 
that this were all. The poor child, however, is so 
broken up and her mind has become so weakened by 
her misfortunes, that to put an end to it all, she has 
given in to the Count and consented to marry him. 
The ceremony will take place in the chapel in fifteen 
minutes.” 

“Is that all?” asked Waterbury. 

“Isn’t that enough?” asked Ottillie. “How, in 
Heaven’s name, did I make such a blunder, and lead 
you up, of all places, into the picture gallery?” 

“Give it up,” answered Waterbury. “But how 
about the secret tunnel which leads from the vaults to 
the river banks? Are you really certain that there 
is one?” 

“As certain as I am that I sit here.” 

“Perhaps the Count has had it walled up.” 

90 


THE CASTLE ROOF 


91 


‘Tt may be so. It would be just like him.” 

“When was this secret tunnel last seen by any- 
body ?” 

“There was a man who said that he saw it about 
the year 1750.” 

“Did he actually tell you that he saw it?” 

“What a silly question Are you crazy? Of 
course he didn’t. Dear me! I am nearly dead with 
the fatigue and worry of it all. If I only had a glass 
of wine now. There is no use in trying to get one. 
The count is so awfully stingy about such things, and 
beside the wine they serve here is nothing but vinegar 
and water.” 

“How would you like a glass of Johannisburg, 
1810?” 

“If I had a glass of Johannisburg, 1810, I would 
imagine myself in Heaven. The Count has some, but 
they say that he sells it for a hundred thalers a bottle. 
Could anything be more mercenary?” 

“Here is a hundred thalers worth of it,” said Water- 
bury. He produced one of the bottles, and knocking 
off the neck of it against the bricks of the fire-place, 
filled two wineglasses which stood upon the center- 
table. 

“You must be the genie in the story of Aladdin and 
the wonderful lamp,” said Ottillie. But how did you 
get it?” 

“It was presented to me,” answered Waterbury, 
“and now for a toast. Let us drink to the perdition of 
the Count.” 

“I cannot do that,” said Ottillie, sadly. 

“There seems to be some secret and mysterious tie 
between the Count and you.” 

“I wish that there were not,” said Ottillie. “Would 
that there were a way out of it all ! I have been think- 


92 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


ing, and have devised a plan. The question is : 
Whether you have sufficient gravel to carry it out.” 

“Gravel! What would I be doing with gravel? 
And how could it possibly help us?” 

“That is one of your Americanisms, I thought 
that you would understand me better.” 

“Pardon me, I understand you now. But ‘sand’ 
is what you should have said, and not ‘gravel.’ ” 

“I think that it makes very little difference. One 
is a trifle coarser than the other. That is all.” 

“There is nothing particularly coarse about the 
expression, as I look at it. Many Germanicisms are 
a whole lot coarser.” 

“That is not what I meant, and you know it. How- 
ever, we will not argue the matter. The ceremony 
is due in a very few moments. Now, what I have to 
propose is this : You must get into the chapel ahead 
of the Count, meet Jeanne, who will enter at the oppo- 
site door, lead her to the altar rail, and be married to 
her before the Count arrives. The father confessor 
of the Castle is a fat, purblind old wine toper who will 
never notice the difference. Meanwhile, I will hurry 
to the Count and detain him. I have an effectual 
means for doing it.” 

“Isn’t it all rather hasty?” asked Waterbury. 

“Oh, if you do not wish to marry Jeanne, it is a 
different thing.” 

“But I do wish to marry Jeanne.” 

“You do not act like it. Well, what is your 
decision ?” 

“I am game for it.” 

“Now, what do you mean by that? Do you think 
that there is a trick about it, or that some game will 
be played upon you?” 

“No, I simply meant that I had the sand.” 


THE CASTLE ROOF 


93 


“Then why didn’t you say so? How many times 
must I tell you to say what you mean? You think 
that you are talking German, and all the time you are 
talking American. But come. There is no time to 
lose.” 

Ottillie now led Waterbury out of the drawing- 
room and down the corridor to the chapel door. After 
he had entered, she closed the door and went to find the 
Count. The chapel was deserted, a few candles in 
the chancel were burning, and a dim, melancholy light 
pervaded the apartment. Caspar's body had been re- 
moved. Waterbury was glad of it, as he disliked the 
idea of being married right in front of the bier, and 
in the very presence of death. 

“It would have been a bad omen,” thought he. 
“I’m glad they had the sense to put it somewhere else.” 

He now went to the back end of the chapel and sat 
down upon a bench in one corner, in such a position 
that he could see Jeanne the minute she entered the 
opposite door. It seemed to him that he waited a very 
long time. Presently, from afar off, at first faint and 
low, then gradually swelling and becoming clearer, 
sounded the strains of the dead march from Saul. The 
music had a most gloomy effect upon Waterbury. 

“What in the devil’s name,” he asked himself, “are 
they playing that thing for? That’s a fine, cheerful 
air to play when a man’s going to be married.” 

The music now sounded nearer and arose in volume, 
and as, the climax was reached, the door opposite 
opened and al female figure appeared in the doorway. 

“That is Jeanne,” said Waterbury, as he got up and 
advanced to meet her. They met in the center of the 
chapel and advanced up the aisle together. Her face 
was covered with a thick white veil, and she seemed 
disconcerted and trembling. 


94 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


“Do not fear, little one,” said Waterbury. “It is I 
and not the Count.” 

“My darling,” said he, as they stood before the 
rail, “lift your veil that I may look at your dear face.” 

She did not answer, but hung down her head. 
Waterbury caught hold of the veil and lifted it up. 

“Great Caesar’s ghost!” he cried. 

It was not Jeanne. It was Caspar’s widow. He 
recoiled away from her, and just then, from some- 
where in the choir, there sounded a sardonic, baritone 
chuckle. 

“That’s that d — d Count,” said Waterbury. 

He turned and strode furiously down the aisle. As 
he came under the balcony, he chanced to look up, and 
he saw the curtains trembling. Then they parted at 
the bottom, and a white hand appeared and fluttered a 
dainty mite of a lace handkerchief. Then, even as he 
watched it, the handkerchief was dropped, the hand 
vanished and the curtains closed. He caught the 
handkerchief in mid air and pressed it to his lips. 
There was that same faint perfume of violets about 
it. 

“It is lucky that I know the way to the balcony,” 
thought he. 

He at once left the chapel, passed along the hall- 
way, and entered the picture gallery. It was very 
dark, but he found the iron stairway, and mounting it 
quickly, pushed open the little door in the wall and 
entered the balcony. In a moment Jeanne was in his 
arms and he was kissing her. 

“Wait a minute,” said she, as soon as she could 
get her breath, “not so fast. There is a question I 
want to ask you first.” 

“Ask me anything, Jeanne sweetheart.” 

“I want to know what you were doing down there 


THE CASTLE ROOF 


95 


with Caspar’s widow. You were talking with her 
confidentially. You seemed to be on exceedingly 
friendly terms with her.” 

“I thought it was you, Jeanne.” 

‘'What nonsense! Besides, you are not very com- 
plimentary. Do you know that if anyone saw you 
talking to her, it would cause remark ? It is certainly 
in very bad taste,. when only this evening you murdered 
her husband.” 

“She is, without doubt, grateful to me for it, poor 
soul.” 

“She looked it.” 

“But how about you, Jeanne? How do I come 
to find you here?” 

“I scarcely know. I scarcely know anything 
these days. In a moment of weakness, I consented to 
become the Count’s wife. What is the use of strug- 
gling any further?” thought I. Then, as he was 
about to leave I repented of my rash words and would 
have recalled them, but it was too late, for he had left 
the room and locked the door. Oh, Jules, I cannot 
marry that man. Something tells me that it would 
be a crime. Sometimes I fear that he already has a 
wife living.” 

“Do you think that he would actually commit 
bigamy?” 

“Would a duck swim? But, to my story. Pretty 
soon an old hag brought me my supper. I haven’t 
eaten anything since morning. The viands, however, 
did not tempt me. While she was about to set the 
tray upon the table, I dashed past her and fled along 
the passage and down the stair. Fortunately, I 
thought of this balcony. I met no one, and in three 
minutes I had gone down the second stairway, threaded 
the corridors, entered the picture gallery and asgended 


96 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


the iron steps to this present harbor of refuge. This 
place, though, will not be safe long. It will only be a 
short time before the Count will seek me out and find 
me. Ottillie says that the best hiding-place of the 
castle is upon the roof of it. We can gain the roof 
through a door in the round tower which is at the end 
of the passage upon which my chamber is situated. 
Let us go at once.” 

“I am with you to the death,” said Waterbury. 

In a few minutes they had negotiated the hallways 
and the two pairs of stairs, and had arrived at the door 
of Jeanne’s chamber. 

“I must go in here for a moment,” said Jeanne. 
‘T have forgotten my hand-bag.” 

They passed into the room and Waterbury per- 
ceived the untasted supper upon the table. 

“They did not send me the only thing I wanted,” 
said Jeanne plaintively. 

“And what was that?” asked Waterbury. 

“A glass of wine. The Count is so close-fisted 
that it is like drawing teeth to get any. When he does 
send some up it is as thin and sour as the claret served 
with the table d’hote at second rate boarding houses. 
I am so worn out, body and mind with these worries 
and this bootless wandering hither and yon, that some 
good wine, even though it were but a teaspoonful 
would be a Godsend.” 

“How would you like a glass of Johannisburg 
i8io?” asked Waterbury. 

“It would translate me into the seventh heaven. 
Ottillie says that the Count has a lot of it, and that he 
sells it for a hundred thalers a pint, a thaler for every 
year. Also, for every year that passes, he adds a 
thaler to the price. He was never known to open a 
bottle. Did you ever hear of anyone 30 parsimonious ?” 


THE CASTLE ROOF 


97 

“Bother the price,” said Waterbury. “Here is a 
pint, anyway.” 

With that, he took from his pocket the second 
.bottle, broke the neck from it with the handle of a 
table-knife and filled two glasses. 

“You must be a genie from out the Arabian 
nights,” said Jeanne. 

Waterbury smiled. 

“What are you smiling at?” 

“I was just thinking of a remarkable coincidence.” 
He raised his glass. “Let us drink,” said he, “to the 
confusion of the Count and to our speedy marriage.” 

Jeanne blushed divinely. 

“I will drink to the first,” said she, “but the wed- 
ding cannot take place for ever and ever so long.” 

“What in thunder is there to delay it?” 

“In the first place, there is the trousseau. It would 
take six months alone to get my trousseau together.” 

“Oh, hang the trousseau. You can get that after- 
ward.” 

“What a monstrous idea. It is plain to be seen 
that you were never married before.” 

“If we were in New York we could buy the 
trousseau in a day at one of those big department 
stores.” 

“But we are not in New York. We are in a 
frightfully mediaeval castle of the fifteenth century, 
among the Rhine mountains. More than that, we are 
prisoners and likely to remain so.” 

“Some time, however, we will be in New York and 
it will be my pleasure to take you through those 
wonderful stores.” 

“You may not think it such a pleasure” said Jeanne 
slyly. “Father never seemed to enjoy it. You see, 
I bought so much. Sometimes he actually swore. 

7 


98 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


Dear me! what are we thinking of, that we should 
loiter here so long? We must hasten to the roof. They 
may be here at any moment.’’ 

Waterbury and Jeanne now left the chamber, 
passed along the corridor, in a direction opposite to 
that of the stairway, and presently arrived at the little 
door which gave access to the round tower. Water- 
bury opened the door and they ascended a spiral stair- 
case to another door, which lei: them out upon the roof 
of the castle. 

It seemed to be about an acre in extent and was 
divided up into flat spaces, stone paved and battle- 
mented; into gables, round and square towers, turrets 
and belfries. The moon was at the full and threw a 
fairy -like and mysterious glamor upon • the scene. 
There were scores, however, of shadowy nooks and 
angles, and it seemed to them that they could have 
found no better place in which to hide. They crossed 
the flat, square enclosure upon which they stood and 
leaned upon the merlons of the battlement. As they 
looked down, they could see the gorge and the rustic 
bridge which spanned it. 

“And to think,” said Jeanne, “that it was only this 
morning that I saw you standing there, with your nose 
in the air. Who would have thought then, that in less 
than twelve hours by the clock we would become 
engaged ?” 

“It does sound like a fairy-story,” said Waterbury. 

“Let us suppose that it is a fairy story and that a 
good fairy has given us each a wish. What would 
your wish be?” 

“I think,” said Waterbury, after pondering for a 
moment, “that I would wish for a good dinner. I 
haven’t eaten anything since morning, you know.” 

“What a base and sensuous wish! You almost 


THE CASTLE ROOF 


99 


make me regret having accepted you. I haven’t my- 
self eaten since breakfast, but I have a mind above such 
earthly things. I would wish now for a balloon to 
come along, and that we might catch it and float away, 
over the rivers and the forests, over the far-off rim 
of the horizon, until we arrived at the Ultima Thule.” 

Waterbury regarded Jeanne with a suspicious 
glance. 

‘T do not think that there is anything to eat in the 
Ultima Thule,” said he, “and therefore we might be 
sorry, after all, that we had gone there. As for a 
balloon coming along and our catching it, such things 
do not happen. Why don’t you give the fairy some- 
thing easier ?” 

“You are mistaken,” said Jeanne, “such things do 
happen. I know of just such an occurrence. There 
were two girls at the convent who told me all about it. 
Their names are Isolde and Wanda von Schrecken- 
strohm. They are Countesses, to boot. They) told 
me that they and their four sisters, six of them in all, 
were staying in their father’s castle, on the Schrecken- 
strohm river; and that one night, a balloon dropped 
down on the roof and a man got out of it. He came 
down stairs next morning and made their acquaintance, 
proposed to Brunhilda, their eldest sister, and was 
accepted. When the Count, their father, came, how- 
ever, with the priest and some friends, for the wedding 
ceremony, he took to his heels and ran away like a 
frightened rabbit ; and that was the last they ever heard 
of him.” 

“Do you know the man’s name?” asked Water- 
bury. 

“I did know, but I have forgotten it.” 

“It is just as well,” said Waterbury. 

“Let us go up into the top of that round turret,” 


lOO 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


said Jeanne, “it looks very cozy and inviting, and I 
want to find what we can see from there.” 

When they came to the arched door of the turret, 
and had entered, they found no stairway or other means 
of getting to the top. There were three such turrets, 
or sentry towers, in all. The second, like the first, was 
unprovided with a stair. In the third, however, they 
found a ladder, some eighteen feet in length, which 
extended from the floor to the platform above. Water- 
bury went first, and reaching down, took Jeanne’s 
hand, and thus they mounted to the top without dif- 
ficulty. There was a stone parapet, some three feet 
high, around the platform, and they sat down upon 
this and looked around them. They now perceived the 
broad expanse of the Rhine, winding along at the rear 
of the castle. Its surface was silvered o’er, in a wide 
band, by the moonlight, and in the distance, here and 
there, several twinkling lights appeared, as if of boats 
passing up and down the stream. Hand in hand they 
sat, for the most part of the time silent, listening to 
the tinkling of the small stream which ran through 
the gorge, and to the strange night sounds of the ad- 
jacent forest. Now and then, there came a noise of 
revelry from somewhere in the interior of the castle. 

“They are having a banquet,” remarked Waterbury. 

“What matters it to us?” said Jeanne. 

“It matters a good deal to people who haven’t eaten 
in eight or ten hours.” 

Presently they heard the? sound of a door opening, 
and looking down, they saw two men step out of the 
round tower upon the roof. 

“They have come after us at last,” said Jeanne. 

“It will not do to remain here,” said Waterbury. 
“They will end by coming up the ladder, and will then 
have us cornered. Let us get down at once and hide 


THE CASTLE ROOF 


lOI 


in some of those angles, or behind some tower or wall. 
We can change from place to place, and it will be no 
easy matter to find us.” 

They at once started down, Waterbury going first 
and assisting Jeanne as best he might. They had not 
time, however, to get out of the turret. As they 
stepped from the ladder to the floor, the two men were 
almost in front of the door. It was very dark in the 
turret and Waterbury pulled Jeanne in behind the lad- 
der and they flattened themselves against the wall. 

“First shall we in these watch-towers exploration 
make,” said one of the men as they entered the arched 
opening, “for here, all certainly, should they concealed 
be. I believe not that they in the castle below hidden 
to be might, as the Herr Graff all rooms in the building 
upside down turned has.” 

As they climbed up the ladder the other man spoke : 

“Hans, what have you with the two bottles done?” 

“What two bottles?” answered the other. 

“The two bottles what I you given have.” 

“You have me not two bottles given.” 

“I have you the two bottles passed from the window 
of the wine cellar out.” 

“Another time I say to you that you to me no 
bottles given have.” 

“With mine own hands I you two bottles given have.” 

'‘Gott im HimmeV: Yet one time. I say that I 
from you no bottles received have.” 

“What for a lying rogue are you? Say you there 
gives not two bottles?” 

“That say I, also say I that you an accursed spitz- 
bub are.” 

“What are they talking about?” asked Jeanne. 

“They appear to be having a difference of opinion 
about some bottles.” 


102 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


Just then the two men seemed to have reached the 
top of the ladder and to have stepped upon the platform. 

“I wonder,” said Jeanne, “if you and I are thinking 
of the same thing?” 

Waterbury took hold of the ladder and lifted it 
down and laid it upon the roof outside of the turret. 

“Is that what you were thinking of, sweetheart?” 

“Exactly, Jules, dear.” 

It was now evident that the two men upon the top 
of the turret had come to blows. There was a sound 
of fisticuffs and the ripping of clothing, and the calm- 
ness of the summer night was disturbed by cries of 
pain and rage and by a large and varied assortment of 
high and low Dutch profanity. 

“They may fall down through the hole,” said 
Waterbury. 

“That is none of our affair,” said Jeanne. 

Waterbury now took the ladder and carried it to 
another watch-tower and set it up inside. 

“How many more times shall we have to move?” 
asked he. 

“Look!” said Jeanne, “two other men are coming 
out of the door of the round tower upon the roof.” 

Waterbury and Jeanne now hid behind the turret 
in which they had placed the ladder. The men im- 
prisoned upon the top of the first turret called out to 
the new arrivals : 

“Someone has the ladder by which we ascended 
away removed.” 

The two men hunted around and, at length, dis- 
covered the ladder. One of them spoke. 

“Whoever the ladder removed has, without doubt, 
in the top of this tower concealed is.” 

“Go you up and see who it is, and what is loose 
with them.” 


THE CASTLE ROOF 


103 


“Go you up, rather, while I here stay shall.” 

“No, that will I not ; the both of us go up will.” 

With that the both men cautiously ascended the 
ladder. When they had gained the top and had 
stepped upon the platform, Waterbury took the ladder 
away and laid it down upon the roof. 

There was now a lively and heated interchange of 
compliments between the men upon the top of one 
watch-tower with the men upon the other. 

“If we should hang around here for awhile,” said 
Waterbury, “we might bag a couple more of them.” 

“I do not think so,” said Jeanne, “the Count told 
me that he had sent three men up the river in a boat 
with Caspar’s remains. They were to row up stream 
two or three miles and throw them overboard. That 
is his usual way of disposing of inconvenient cadavers.” 

“Why don’t they take him down stream instead of 
up?” 

“I do not know. What difference does it make?” 

“The water supply of the castle would be much 
better.” 

“I didn’t think of that,” said Jeanne. 

“It is strange that the Count should have had 
Caspar removed so soon. That does away with the 
evidence against me. That sort of lets me out. 
What?” 

“Oh, I suppose that he became tired of seeing him 
Iving around. I heard him call out to the steward : 
‘Here, you ! have that stiff taken away at once and dis- 
posed of in the usual manner. What do you think 
of that for callous and disgusting brutality?” 

“That is certainly going some,” said Waterbury. 

“Well, as I was saying, three men in the boat and 
these four make seven and Caspar makes eight. There 
were only nine men in the castle this morning, besides 


104 


THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 


the Count and the steward. The steward is only half 
a man and doesn’t figure. So there is really only one 
able-bodied man available to the Count.” 

‘Tf that is so, what are we stopping here for ? Why 
not go right down to the front door and march out 
of the castle. It would take more than the Count, his 
one able-bodied^ man and the steward to stop me.” 

“That is the way I like to hear you talk, Jules, dear. 
How I admire you. That is the very thing I was 
thinking of. I would propose though, that we step 
boldly down the main stairway into the great front 
hall, march into the banquet room where the Count is 
even now holding high carnival, tell him what we think 
of him and then proceed leisurely, and with the neces- 
sary amount of hauteur, out of the front door and 
across the drawbridge.” 

“Here is where we interview the Count,” said 
Waterbury. 

“I’ll have to stop in my chamber first and arrange 
my toilet. I know that I must look a perfect fright. 
You too are dirty and dishevelled. Your clothing is 
torn and stained. Your hair is tousled like that of a 
poet and you look as if you had been through the thirty 
years’ war. While I am fixing up a bit, you can go 
to your chamber, the room where you slugged that poor 
Caspar, and make yourself presentable.” 

“I don’t know that I could find the room again.’’ 

“It should be easy. It is directly under mine, and 
you will find the door of it in splinters.” 

After Waterbury had left Jeanne in her chamber, 
he sought his own room and, after all, had no difficulty 
in finding it. The door of it, however, was not in 
splinters, and the lock seemed to be in good working 
order. As he entered he perceived a leather suit-case 
standing upon the center-table. It was marked with 


THE CASTLE ROOF 


105 


the initials “J. W.” and he found, to his astonish- 
ment, that it was his own. He had left it in his car 
that morning, and the chauffeur should now have it 
in his possession, at Wiesbaden. 

“This is most extraordinary,” said he. 

He opened the suit-case and took out a dinner 
jacket, a pair of black trousers and a change of linen. 

“Might as well go the whole figure,” thought he, 
“besides they are the only decent things I have.” 

Fortunately, he had bathed and shaved that morn- 
ing at Frankfort, and when he had completed his toilet, 
which only took him some fifteen minutes, he presented 
a very respectable appearance. He now went up stairs 
and tapped upon Jeanne’s door. She kept him waiting 
fully a quarter hour. When, however, she did appear, 
she took his breath away. She was gowned in evening 
dress, some kind of a white silk affair, with a lot of 
cobwebby lace upon it which must have cost about a 
hundred dollars a yard. Her corsage was cut low in 
front as well as down the back, in fact, away down the 
back. Waterbury thought that he had never seen such 
shapely, perfect, ivory-hued neck and shoulders. 

“How comes it that you are in evening dress?” 
•was his amazed enquiry. 

“I might ask you the same question,” answered she, 
sweetly. 

She now took his arm, and they marched along 
the hallway and down the steps and along the crooked 
corridors, the whole length of the castle, until they 
came to one of the two main front stairways. Down 
into the great square hall swept Jeanne upon his arm. 
A liveried lackey held open the door to the banquet 
chamber. It was Caspar, and as they passed through 
the doorway, there was a patronizing smirk upon his 
countenance. 


io6 THE KIDNAPPED DAMOZEL 

“I wish I had given him a good one while I was 
about it,” thought Waterbury. 

In the banquet room a strange sight met his eyes. 
There was a table, set with costly and tasteful mag- 
nificence. In the host’s place sat a man of about his 
own age, a well-favored chap, rather stout, and with 
a smooth, good-natured face and twinkling gray eyes. 
Ottillie occupied the chair of the hostess at the other 
end of the table. Jack Jenkins and his wife sat on 
one side of the board and Stuyvesant Perkins and his 
wife sat upon the other. There were two vacant seats, 
one upon each side of the host. 

“Well, Jane Smith,” cried Ottillie, “whatever have 
you been about for this half hour? We sent four 
servants after you and neither of them has returned. 
What has kept you so long?” 

“Mr. Waterbury is the cause of it,” answered 
Jeanne, laughing. “Charlie,” said she to the man at 
the head of the table, “I want to make you acquainted 
with Mr. Waterbury. Julius, this is my brother-in- 
law, Mr. Jones. My sister, Mrs. Jones,” indicating 
Ottillie, “you have already met. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins 
and Mr. and Mrs. Perkins, of course, are old friends 
of yours.” 

Charlie Jones sprang up and shook Waterbury’s 
hand with such a grip that he winced. 

“Charlie,” said Jeanne to Waterbury, “is a Pitts- 
burg steel man. His manner is usually so debonair 
and lordly that his friends off there call him the Count.” 

Waterbury pondered for about two seconds. His 
mind was then made up. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said he, “the joke is evi- 
dently, undeniably and incontestably upon me. If I 
do not care to discuss the particulars of it, you will not 
wonder. I may say this, however ; out of the whole 


THE CASTLE ROOF 


107 


thing has come the one best thing of my life. Jeanne, 
or Jane Smith, as you call her, has consented to become 
my wife. We will be married just as soon as it is 
possible to get ready for the ceremony. Further than 
this I have nothing to say.” 

“Hear! hear!” shouted Charlie Jones. 

Ottillie Jones clapped her approval. Mrs. Jenkins 
and Mrs. Perkins reached across the table and clasped 
hands. Jane Smith hung her head and blushed. 

“Jack!” said Perkins to Jenkins, “how is that for 
the tame elephants? What?” 

“What does he mean by that?” asked Waterbury 
suspiciously. 

“It is nothing but one of his elephantine jokes,” 
said Mrs. Perkins, ^^pay no attention to him.” 

“Let us all drink to the health of the newly engaged 
couple,” said Charlie Jones. “The! occasion certainly 
deserves a vintage something out of the ordinary. 
Caspar! some Johannisburg, 1810.” 


The Oval Diamond 


CHAPTER I 
The Walled Garden 

Robert Ledyard was an American of twenty-eight 
or thirty. He was tall, spare, but athletic, had a rather 
pleasing countenance, and was of an amiable disposi- 
tion. It was in June of the year 1912, and the young 
man, who was by profession a civil engineer, was tak- 
ing a much needed vacation, and was sojourning, at 
the time of these happenings, in the city of London. 

He had been put up at two or three clubs, and had 
made a number of acquaintances. One of these ac- 
quaintances, a Mr. Phineas Benson, was a building 
contractor of some note, who was about to erect a 
series of steel frame buildings for a large manufactur- 
ing plant in the vicinity of London. Mr. Benson was 
so impressed with the engineering ability of Ledyard 
that he asked him to look over the blue prints of the 
works in hand, with the idea of detecting errors and 
suggesting improvements. The young man, after 
thinking the matter over for a day or two, accepted 
Benson’s proposition; both because he liked the man 
and because the amount of remuneration which he 
offered was very much beyond the ordinary. Also, as 
Ledyard^s rooms in his hotel were not adapted to or 
convenient for such precise work, the young man ac- 
cepted Mr. Benson’s invitation to stop with him at his 
house, until the completion of his task. 

Mr. Benson was a bachelor and lived with three 

108 


THE WALLED GARDEN 


109 


servants in an old-fashioned house on Salton Street, a 
small thoroughfare which ran east from Farringdon 
Road. The neighborhood was as old-fashioned as 
the house, and had evidently seen its best days in the 
Georgian period. The street was lined with super- 
annuated crumbling brick dwellings, many of which 
were untenanted, or were let as rooming houses. 

The library of Mr. Benson’s mansion was given 
over to Ledyard. It was a comfortable, light and airy 
room, and it had a window on the east side, where the 
young man usually sat when at work, and through 
which he could look out upon^ the grounds of the next 
house. These grounds, differing from those of the 
other dwellings upon the street, were broad and spa- 
cious, and in fact almost an acre in extent. The house 
itself was an ancient red brick building, of two stories, 
basement and attic, which looked as if it had been 
built in the reign of George the Third, and which stood 
upon the further side of the lot, and flush with the side- 
walk. The grounds were completely surrounded by 
a moss-covered stone wall, about nine feet high, which, 
at both ends, was connected with the house. In the 
front of the wall, and right beside the house, there was 
a small battened, padlocked, wooden door. 

In the center of the lot there was a flower garden, 
run to waste, and in the center of the garden there was 
a fountain, where a much discolored marble nymph 
once had poured water from a pitcher. No water now, 
however, came from the pitcher, and what water lay 
in the pool at her feet was green and slimy. There 
were graveled walks, overgrown with weeds, which 
led here and there, through the grounds, and the place 
contained two score or more of gnarled and twisted 
apple and plum trees which cast an ever moving 
shadow upon the long, unkempt grass. 


no 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


On the morning after Robert’s installation, Mr. 
Benson,, having been suddenly called away upon busi- 
ness, left for Scotland, and thenceforth, during his stay 
in the Benson mansion, the young man was left alone 
with the three servants. He was not sorry for this. 
He was not at all sorry that he had taken up his abode 
in Benson’s house. The reason for this was that a 
young and pretty girl, now and then, was wont to 
come out of the old house opposite, and walk through 
the grounds, and sit upon the great, moss-covered 
stone settees, and read, or spend her time in day 
dreams. She was tall and somewhat slender; but of 
a most shapely figure. Her wealth of hair was very 
dark, almost black, her eyebrows and her long lashes 
were black; but her eyes were of a clear and heavenly 
blue. From this combination, Robert argued that she 
must be of Irish extraction. Her face was of a lovely 
oval and its color of the purest snow; only, she was 
almost too pale, and this, together with the fact that 
she never seemed to smile, gave her countenance a sad 
and melancholy look. Twice, when she was sitting 
upon a stone bench, which stood beneath a clump of 
trees, not far from his window, he had seen her lay 
down her book, and dab at her eyes with a mite of a 
handkerchief. She was plainly weeping. Our hero, 
from the first, imagined her to be beauty in distress, 
and, from the first, the idea entered his mind that she 
needed consolation, and that it devolved upon him to 
furnish the consolation. 

On the afternoon of the second day, two men came 
from the house and joined the girl in the garden. One 
of them was an old man of fifty-five or sixty. He 
was stout, had a white moustache, a double chin, and 
carried himself with a military air. The other was a 
well built youth of twenty-five or so. He was a hand- 


THE WALLED GARDEN 


III 


some, smooth-shaven cub, and beneath his right eye 
there was a scar which gave him a rather disagreeable 
and cruel look. He had an assertive and offensive 
manner, and, as he walked, he twirled a light cane, 
and struck off flowers from their stems. Robert did 
not like to see flowers decapitated and left to die in 
that way. It seemed to him that the same man might 
kill small animals and birds for the mere amusement 
of it. 

The two men and the girl were having an argu- 
ment. The fact was plain ; although Robert could not 
hear what they were saying. Then, suddenly, the girl 
burst into tears, covered her eyesi with her handker- 
chief, and fled into the house. The young man was 
clearly infuriated, and spoke to the older with excited 
voice and gestures. The old gentleman, however, re- 
mained imperturbable, he grinned sardonically, said 
something in a low voice, which seemed to put the 
young man into a better humor ; then they also entered 
the house. 

Robert argued that the two were father and son. 
In fact, they looked very much alike. He concluded 
also, that the girl was not the old man’s daughter; 
though she might be a niece, or some more distant 
relative. The facts of the drama were as plain as plain 
could be. The two men were engaged in a conspiracy 
to marry the girl to the younger one, and she would 
have none of him. Robert did not wonder that she 
rebelled. He already hated the fellow himself. He 
had at once taken a dislike to him. Rather than have 
him marry the girl, he decided that he would interfere. 
He would climb down into the grounds and choke the 
fellow, or break his neck, or kick in his ribs, or pound 
his head off. 

Beside the wall, right in front of his window, 


II2 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


there grew an immense old apple tree. The top of 
the wall was about one foot higher than his window 
sill. He could easily step out of his window upon 
the wall, and then descend the tree, by easy stages from 
limb to limb, until he arrived at the bottom icrotch of 
the tree, which was but four feet from the ground. 
When he had first seen that the girl was in some sort 
of trouble, and when he had first come to the conclu- 
sion that she needed comforting, he had noticed this 
astonishingly easy way of getting to her. That night 
he dreamed that he descended the apple tree, and fell 
foul of the old man and his son, and that the girl mean- 
while stood by, and laughed and clapped her hands. 

Robert Ledyard had never been in love. This was 
certainly not because of a disinclination for the tender 
passion, or because he disliked the opposite sex. It 
was rather because the right girl had never appeared. 
He was naturally of a romantic temperament; but he 
had never been brought in contact with a real romance. 
Judge now of his feelings and his enthusiasm when 
he was thus confronted suddenly by a romance with 
a big R. He had all at once a strange prescience which 
told him that he was about to enter into some extra- 
ordinary and astonishing adventure. He had never 
had an adventure worthy of the name. Imagine then, 
what must have been his exultation, his anticipation at 
thought of the adventure which so quickly and surely 
was coming to meet him. 

It is to be feared that, after the first day or two of 
his stay in Mr. Benson’s house, he gave scant heed to 
Mr. Benson’s blue prints. What corrections and alter- 
ations he did actually make in these prints doubtless 
eventually caused Mr. Phineas Benson no end of trouble 
and vexation ; but that is neither here nor there, and 
has nothing to do with the story. 


CHAPTER II 

The Suddenness of Robert 

Robert Ledyard was always quick in his decisions. 
He had been nicknamed “Robert the Sudden” by his 
associates. The next morning he decided to write the 
girl a letter, and this is what he wrote: 

“To THE Unknown Young Lady Next Door: 

“I am the man who sits at the window, above the 
wall, behind the big apple tree. You cannot fail to 
have seen me, as I am here all day, and every day. 
I am a civil engineer, and am working upon some blue 
prints. Also, I am an American and a bachelor. I 
have seen that you are in some sort of trouble, and I 
would be no true American should I not sympathize 
with you and seek to aid you. I have come to the 
conclusion that you have no mother, perhaps no 
father. I think that the old man and his son are 
disposed to take advantage of that fact. I noticed 
their conduct toward you yesterday, and I have de- 
cided that you need or will need shortly the help of 
some good, strong, able-bodied person. I do not wish 
to appear boastful when I say that I think I could fill 
the role. May I be that person? Anyway, please 
remember that I am always at hand. I can climb 
down the apple tree, into your grounds, in two shakes 
of a lamb’s tail. You have but to call, and I will come 
to you. I remain, with all respect and sincerity, 
“Very truly yours, 

“Robert Ledyard.” 

Having put the letter into an envelope, and sealed 
it, he now awaited his opportunity. Shortly before 
noon, the girl came out of the house, and, after stroll- 

8 113 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


114 

ing about for awhile, seated herself upon her favorite 
stone bench, beneath the clumpj of trees. She was not 
more than fifty feet away, and there could be no more 
propitious time for the delivery of his missive. He 
took the letter, and leaning out of his window, shied 
it through the air, with a twist of his hand, so that it 
went sailing and circling through the atmosphere, and 
fell almost at her very feet. 

She gazed at the white envelope for a moment in 
a perplexed way, then she glanced up and caught sight 
of the young man standing in the window. She looked 
at him for a long moment; then she turned away, and 
he distinctly saw a smile steal across her face. It was 
the first time he had ever seen her smile, and it was a 
revelation. But alas and alack; she paid no further 
attention to him, or to his missive. Furthermore, she 
presently arose, walked slowly away, and entered the 
house. 

Robert was vexed with her and himself. He felt 
humiliated and shamed, and he actually blushed. Up- 
on the spur of the moment, he made up his mind to 
descend the apple tree, and retrieve his despised epistle. 
As he was about to do so, one of the servants came in, 
and announced luncheon. He would have waited un- 
til the maid was gone, and recovered the letter before 
he ate ; but she did not go. Instead she commenced to 
dust the furniture of the room. He couldn’t let the 
maid into the secret : so he went to luncheon. When 
he returned to the library, and looked out upon the 
grounds, the note was gone. 

All that afternoon, he looked for his fair neighbor ; 
but she did not come out of the house once. Then he 
concluded to write another note. Perhaps he had not 
been sufficiently reassuring and diplomatic. The fol- 
lowing letter is what he finally composed: 


THE SUDDENNESS OF ROBERT 115 


“My Dear Miss Unknown : 

“I hope that you haven’t taken offense at my writ- 
ing you. If you could see down to the bottom of my 
heart, you would know that I really and truly want 
to help you. I have a sister back in America, and I 
love her dearly. If any good and decent young man 
should find her in dire straits, and should fail to offer 
her assistance, I would thrash him, if it were the last 
act of my life. Perhaps you have a brother yourself. 
What would he think of me if I stood by and saw in- 
justice done you, without offering my aid? If you 
haven’t a brother, let me be one, for the time. Please 
put aside your natural scruples and objections. I am 
a stranger, it is true, and I have taken a most uncon- 
ventional way; but what else could I do? I shall 
look for you in your accustomed seat. Just a nod of 
your head, and I will be with you. You will never 
regret it. 

“Sincerely and honestly yours, 

“Robert Led yard.” 

After having sealed his note, he again spun it 
through the air, and again, his aim was so good, that 
it fell upon the gravel walk, within a few feet of the 
stone bench. Then he waited for the girl; but the 
evening came, and it grew dark, and she did not come. 
In the morning, however, his second letter had disap- 
peared. There was not a sign of the girl during the 
forenoon. He paced the floor impatiently, and won- 
dered whether she had taken his letters, and had read 
them. Sometimes he thought she had, and then again 
that she had not. At about two o’clock in the after- 
noon, he was overjoyed to see her come from the 
house. She walked the pathways leisurely for some 
minutes, then, in quite a casual manner, seated herself 
in her accustomed place, and began to read. Robert 
vented an anathema upon the book. All at once she 


ii6 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


looked up, and her eyes met his. There seemed a sort 
of invitation in her glance; but it was only for a 
moment, and she again began to read. 

The young man needed no second call. He 
stepped from the window to the top of the wall, seized 
a branch of the tree, and swung himself down from 
limb to limb, until he had reached the lowermost crotch, 
then, leaping lightly to the ground, he crossed the 
narrow, intervening space, and stood before her. She 
started violently, as he appeared in front of her. 

“Oh, how you startled me!” she exclaimed. 

Now he could not have startled her to any great 
extent, as she had been watching him all the time out 
of the corner of her eye, and had been admiring the 
strength and dexterity which he had displayed. 

“Who are you,” she continued, “and what are you 
doing here?” 

“I am Robert Ledyard,” he answered, “commonly 
called Rob Ledyard, the man who has been sitting, all 
these days, in the window, beyond the top of the wall. 
My letters have explained why I am here.” 

“Letters! what letters?” 

“The two letters which I wrote you yesterday.” 

“How did you send them?” 

“I skimmed fhem out of the window ; so^ that they 
fell hereabouts.” 

“Then they must be around here still, somewhere.” 

The girl now began to cast glances about, as if she 
were seeking the missing letters. 

“And do you mean to tell me,” asked he, “that you 
have not read them?” 

“And do you mean to tell me,” asked she, with 
infinite scorn, “that you think that I would open and 
read letters which were thrown to me, over the wall, 
by a stranger?” 


THE SUDDENNESS OF ROBERT 117 


“I acknowledge,” answered Rob, with becoming 
humility, “that the thing was beyond precedent, and 
altogether wrong. But what else was I to do? I did 
so hope, though, that you had read the letters.” 

The girl appeared to soften at his abject apology. 
At the same time, there seemed to be a sort of a 
mischievous twinkle in her eyes. 

“Well, what did you write about?” asked she. 

The young man was evidently nonplussed. 

“To tell the truth,” he at length blurted out, “I 
got it into my head that you were in some kind of 
trouble, and I wrote you, and asked you to let me aid 
you in the difficulty, whatever it was.” 

She looked at him contemplatively for a long mo- 
ment, and then she seemed to come to a more melting 
mood. 

“That was surely very good of you,” she said. 
“I would like to know, however, just what sort of 
trouble you thought it was.” 

“If you must know, I concluded that the two men, 
who were here day before yesterday, were trying to 
force you into a marriage which was distasteful to 
you.” 

The girl laughed merrily, at which he was much 
relieved. When she smiled or laughed, it also gave 
an added charm to her, which he was not slow to realize. 

“I will say for your satisfaction,” said she, “that 
you were right. That, however, is the least of my 
woes.” 

If that is so, then I surely sympathize with you. 
May I know what else is troubling you?” 

“It is about a diamond.” 

“How can anything of that nature worry you so 
much ?” 

“It is a very large diamond.” 


ii8 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


‘Tt must be a very large one indeed to make you 
shed tears.” 

*‘How do you know that I shed tears?” 

‘T have seen you twice when I was positive that 
you were crying.” 

“You must have been watching me as a cat watches 
a mouse. Do you think it right to watch a strange 
young lady so brazenly?” 

“I felt that it was my duty, a duty, moreover, which 
was not unmixed with pleasure. By the by, how large 
is the diamond?” 

‘Tt weighs something over sixty carats.” 

“Sixty carats ! Why, it must be worth a fortune.” 

“It is. Experts have valued it at something over 
fifty thousand pounds.” 

“Great Caesar ! that is a diamond that is a diamond. 
But you haven’t told me what the trouble is. Was 
the diamond yours, and have you lost it?” 

“It belonged to my father, and was stolen from 
him. It represented substantially my father’s entire 
fortune. My father is at present sick in the hospital 
de Bon Secours in Paris.” 

“Oh, you must pardon me. I am afraid I have 
pained you in getting you to talk about it. You poor 
girl. No wonder you feel so badly all the time. I’m 
glad. I’m glad I came to you. What can be done 
about it? We must recover it for him. What can I 
do to help?” 

“I am afraid you can do nothing.” 

“But I can. Believe me. I’m a born detective.” 

“You don’t look like the traditional detective.” 

“I know it, and that is the first point in my favor. 
I swear that I will get back that diamond, or perish 
in the attempt.” 

“I wouldn’t want you to go so far as that.” 


THE SUDDENNESS OF ROBERT 119 


“Nevertheless, I will. Tell me something about 
the matter. Do you suspect anyone of the theft, and 
have you done anything toward recovering the stone 

“I do certainly suspect certain persons, and, for 
the last two weeks, I have racked my brain to discover 
something. I am afraid, however, that nothing will 
come of it.” 

“Nonsense! you are simply tired and discouraged. 
We will put our heads together, and success is bound 
to come. Two heads are better than one, you know. 
Now you will let me help you, will you not?” 

“You are certainly very kind, and, well. Til think 
about it.” 


CHAPTER III 


Sylvia’s Story 

Ledyard had asked and had! obtained permission 
to seat himself upon the stone bench. He sat in one 
corner of it, and faced the girl, who sat in the other. 

‘‘By the by,” said he, “I do not yet know even 
your name.” 

“Yes, I am aware of that,” said she mischievously. 

“In my character of detective, that is the first 
thing I must know.” • 

“My name is Sylvia Daunt.” 

“What an altogether lovely name ! It is, however, 
not too lovely.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“I mean that it is not too lovely for the person 
who bears it.” 

“What a silly thing to say! I am disappointed 
in you. Furthermore, detectives do not talk in that 
way.” 

“I was not speaking in my official capacity.” 

“Then please confine yourself to your official 
capacity.” 

“But about the theft of the diamond. Of course, 
if I am to accomplish anything, you must tell me the 
whole story.” 

“It is a very long story, and I am sure that it would 
bore you.” 

“Nothing you might say would bore me. The 
longer you talk, the better I shall be pleased. I could 
listen to you always.” 

120 


SYLVIA’S STORY 


I2I 

“There you go again. My opinion of you as a 
detective is rapidly growing poorer and poorer.” 

“You are unjust. You should withhold your 
opinion until I get to work. I own that I am uncon- 
ventional and original in my manner and methods; 
but, as I said before, that should be a point in my 
favor. Every one of the really great detectives, such 
as Sherlock Holmes and Monsieur Dupin, had a system 
and style peculiar to himself. And now for the story 
of the diamond. I am waiting for it with impatience.” 

“Very well,” said Sylvia Daunt. “This is the 
story of the diamond. My father, John Daunt, is a 
mining engineer, a prospector and a miner. He has 
prospected for gold and silver in Nevada, Arizona and 
New Mexico, and he has worked gold mines and dia- 
mond mines in South Africa. My mother died when 
I was very young; so that I scarce remember her. 
Ever since her death, save for the time when I was at 
school, J have been with my father. For the last three 
or four years, I have accompanied him upon all his 
expeditions, and during all that time, T have been his 
constant companion. In fact, we were more like 
friends and pals than father and daughter. 

“About a year and a half ago we went to South 
Africa, and father bought an interest in a diamond 
mining claim, near Kimberley. Now you must know 
that the De Beers Company owns and controls most of 
the diamond workings in South Africa. Nevertheless, 
a number of valuable claims are held by small corpora- 
tions and by private individuals. One of these was for 
sale at a very reasonable figure, and my father, who 
had inside information as to its value, which was much 
beyond the price set upon it, determined to acquire it. 
As, however, his total capital was only about one-third 
the necessary amount, he was forced to take several 


122 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


partners with him into th0 enterprise. He disposed of 
one-third of the property to his brother, Major Hugh 
Dennison, and his son, Arthur Dennison, and another 
third was taken by four men, named Mathews, Peter- 
son, Colby and Saunders. Each third of the claim 
was to be worked separately and distinctly. There 
was, however, an agreement for the first year between 
the different owners that all stones of ten karats weight 
or more should be disposed of to the best advantage, 
and that the proceeds should be divided equally among 
the three claimants. During the first year my father 
found several such stones, and the proceeds of their 
sale were religiously divided according to the agree- 
ment. It is a curious fact, though, that no such stones 
were found by Major Dennison or by Mathews, Peter- 
son, Colby and Saunders. 

‘‘At the end of the year, my father naturally refused 
to renew the agreement. Three days afterwards he 
found what we call ‘the oval diamond,’ a stone which 
weighed ninety karats in the rough. At once my 
uncle and the four men raised a great outcry, and 
claimed a share in its value under the old agreement. 
They charged father with having found the stone at 
some time prior to the expiration of the contract, and 
with having concealed its discovery until after the 
contract had expired. I know, however, that this was 
not so, as I was with father in the workings when the 
stone was found. 

“The oval diamond was worth a large fortune, and 
our future was amply provided for. Father there- 
fore sold his third of the claim to some Dutch capi- 
talist, and we sailed at once for England. When we 
arrived in London, I went to stay with my Aunt Eliza- 
beth, my mother’s sister, who lives in Maida Vale, and 
Father went to Amsterdam, to have the diamond cut. 


SYLVIA’S STORY 


123 


After it was cut, it weighed a fraction over sixty karats, 
and the Amsterdam experts estimated its worth at 
fifty-six thousand pounds, which, I think, is about two 
hundred and eighty thousand dollars of your money. 
It is of an oval shape, about an inch long, by three 
quarters wide. It is absolutely flawless, of a pure 
white color and of surpassing brilliancy. 

“Father now set out to sell the diamond. First, he 
came to London, and it was then that I saw it for the 
first and last time. When I first looked at it, the 
sight of it took my breath away. There was some- 
thing fascinating, dazzling and awe-inspiring about it. 
I could scarcely bring myself to let it go out of my 
hands. I could then imagine how certain men might 
commit murder to gain possession of a gem like that. 

“From London Father went to Paris, and from 
Paris to Vienna, Berlin and St. Petersburg. In Paris, 
he was offered fifty-twO' thousand pounds for the stone. 
This was the largest offer which he received and, de- 
ciding to accept this price, he returned to Paris. On 
the morning after his arrival, he left his hotel, and took 
a motor car for the establishment of the jeweler with 
whom he meant to do business. As he was driving 
along the Boulevard Hausman, a taxicab suddenly 
came from a side street and collided with his car, over- 
turning and wrecking it. Father was thrown to the 
pavement, his right leg was broken in two places, and 
he sustained a concussion of the brain. 

“As you may well imagine, I hastened to him at 
once. I found him at the Hospital De Bon Sec ours, 
and I remained with him for over two months, and 
until he was out of danger. When the accident oc- 
curred, enquiries were made by the police, his identity 
and his business were established, and it was known 
chat he was on his way to the jeweler, and that he had 


124 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


the diamond with him. When his clothing was 
searched, however, the stone had disappeared. During 
those long weeks of watching at his bedside, I was not 
idle. I consulted the police and employed detectives; 
but to almost no purpose. Presently, though, I learned 
two facts. One of them was that Major Dennison 
and his son had returned from South Africa to London, 
and were living in this old house, a property which 
has been in the Major’s family for a hundred years. 
The other fact was that the taxicab which ran into my 
father’s vehicle contained two men, that these two 
men had been very officious in caring for my father, 
and in helping him into the ambulance, and that the 
police had been unable to locate them subsequently, or 
to discover their names. The police had a quite accu- 
rate description of these two men, and the description 
which they gave me immediately suggested to my 
mind Major Hugh Dennison and his son Arthur.” 

“Wait a moment,” interposed Rob. “How is it 
that your father’s name is Daunt and his brother’s 
name is Dennison?” 

“That is something which I forgot to tell you. 
Major Dennison is only my father’s half brother. 
Thank Heaven for that! My father’s father was my 
grandmother’s second husband. From what I know 
of Major Dennison, I have formed a pretty poor esti- 
mate of my grandmother’s first husband. Major Den- 
nison was formerly in the British Army; but he had 
some trouble with cards or racing, so my father says, 
and left the Army for the Army’s good. He is a very 
pleasant old gentleman to meet. He has a benevolent 
appearance, a benign smile, and an unctuous manner; 
but I really don’t think that he would stop at murder 
if it were necessary for the accomplishment of his ends. 
I know it is wrong for me to talk about my uncle in 


SYLVIA’S STORY 


125 

this way ; but I can't help it, and besides he is only my 
half uncle. 

“If Arthur Dennison is not as hypocritical as his 
father, he is worse in other things. He is overbearing, 
snobbish, cruel, disagreeable and vindictive. Besides 
all that, I think that he is the most contemptible and 
complete cad in existence. Why he should think that 
any girl would want to marry him I don’t know; but 
he seemed to imagine that he had only to ask me, and 
that I would fall into his arms.” 

“This is where I come in,” said Robert. “I am 
anxious to interview Arthur. I fairly long to make 
his acquaintance.” 

“Oh, I don’t need your aid in this matter. I am 
amply able to take care of myself as far as he is con- 
cerned. But, really, if I was forced to marry him, I 
would take poison.” 

Sylvia glanced at a small watch which she wore 
upon her round, white wrist. 

“Oh, dear!” she exclaimed, “I had no idea it was 
so late. It is half after five, and the Dennisons may 
come home at any moment. I must get on with the 
story, and I can only give you a few minutes more. 
Well, when I heard from the police the description of 
the two passengers in the taxicab, and when I found 
that the Dennisons had returned from Africa, I put 
the two things together, and made up my mind that 
they had the diamond in their possession. My theory 
was also strengthened by the knowledge which I had 
of their characters, and by the fact that they had made 
an outrageous claim upon Father for a share in the 
treasure. 

“I told Father of my suspicions, and at length 
brought him around to my way of thinking. When 
he was sufficiently recovered, so that I could leave him, 


126 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


I begged of him to let me go to London and interview 
my worthy uncle and cousin.” 

“Why, girl,” said he, “what can you do?” 

“I can at least find out whether they have it,” 
said 1. 

“That was two weeks ago. I have been in this 
house now for a week, and I am positive at the present 
time, not only that they have the diamond, but that 
it is hidden somewhere in the house.” 


CHAPTER IV 


Robert Meets the Dennisons 

Sylvia Daunt again looked at her watch. 

^‘Positively,” said she, “you must go at once. The 
Major and his son may come at any moment, and I 
would not have them see you for the world. If you 
are to be of any assistance in the matter, you must be 
invisible, and they must know nothing about you. 
That is very evident. I am going to the house, so 
good bye until tomorrow.” 

She arose and held out her hand. 

“Before you go,” said he, “tell me one thing. Why 
is it that you are living in the house with these precious 
villains, instead of with your aunt in Maida Vale? 
Also tell me whether you are here entirely of your own 
free will.” 

“I will explain it in a very few words. At once, 
upon my arrival in London, I called at my uncle’s 
house ; but neither he nor his son were at home. This 
old house is as hard to get into as a moated castle, and 
I came here five times in three days, before I effected 
an entrance. While I was waiting upon the steps, I 
saw my cousin peering at me through the shutters, and 
my uncle opened the door for me. 

“My uncle received me in his kindest and most 
benevolent manner. One would have thought that he 
was my father, and that I was his long lost child. 
Arthur, too, appeared to be overcome with joy at the 
sight of me. When I spoke about the diamond, their 
countenances took on a look of innocent amazement. 

127 


128 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


They were shocked at the news of its disappearance, 
and of course knew nothing about its whereabouts. 

“ ‘My dear, dear child,’ exclaimed the Major, ‘this 
is bad news, indeed. I can’t tell you how I feel for 
you and for Brother Jack. Believe me, I would do 
anything in the world if I could get it back for you.’ 

“Yet,” said I, “you made an outrageous claim upon 
Father for a third of the diamond.” 

“ ‘My dear girl,’ said he, ‘I simply made the claim 
because Mathews, Peterson, Colby and Saunders had 
already made a similar one. Had the stone been sold, 
and had I received a third of the proceeds, I would 
immediately have given it back to your father. Yes, 
Sylvia, you and Brother Jack have cruelly misjudged 
me, and I am glad to be able to set myself right with 
you. You can’t tell how deeply pained I was upon 
hearing of his accident. I wanted to go to him at 
once, but a severe attack of my old enemy, the gout, 
kept me away from him. Arthur, too, wanted to go; 
but he was forced to remain and take care of his poor 
old father.’ 

“They are good actors. Major Hugh Dennison 
and his son Arthur, and they would have deceived 
most anyone; but I had known them too long, and I 
was convinced all the time that they were acting out 
a good comedy. In fact, the more they talked, the 
more certain I was that they had the diamond. 

“ ‘And now my dear,’ exclaimed my uncle, ‘I have 
a request to make. I want you to come and visit us 
for ten days. Our menage is rather poor and humble ; 
but I know that we will get along famously. I will 
have my sister-in-law, Mrs. Vincent, here at the same 
time, so that you will not lack for the companionship 
of one of your own sex. I insist upon your coming, 
and I know that Brother Jack, your dear father, would 


ROBERT MEETS THE DENNISONS 129 

be angry with me, did I not. What do you say, Sylvia 
child?’ 

“Now, if there is anything that I would ordinarily 
detest, it would be a visit with Uncle Hugh; but here 
was the opportunity of a lifetime. I would never have 
such another chance to find the oval diamond. I at 
once accepted the invitation, and two days later I 
packed my suitcase and was driven here. That was a 
week ago. 

“When I arrived, Mrs. Vincent was not in evi- 
dence; nor has she arrived at all. Every time I speak 
about her. Uncle Hugh makes some excuse, and says 
that she will surely arrive ‘tomorrow.’ When I had 
been here scarcely twenty-four hours. Cousin Arthur 
commenced to make love to me. This was the last 
straw, and several times I have been upon the point of 
giving up the whole thing, and trying to make my 
escape. I say ‘trying to make my escape’ because I 
found, after I had been here two or three days, that I 
was virtually a prisoner. 

“There are only three ways of getting out of the 
place. One is by the upper front door, another by 
the basement area door, and the third by that small 
wicket in the stone wall. The front door and the 
wicket are always locked, and the Dennisons carry the 
keys in their pockets. The basement door is also al- 
ways locked, and the old woman, who is their only 
servant, carries the key at her girdle. After I had 
been here two days, the Dennisons being away from 
home, I wanted to do some shopping and I asked her 
to let me out. She is as deaf as a post anyway, and 
she pretended not to understand me, and went on with 
her work, in an obstinate and sullen manner. 

“Her name is Sarah. She is very stout and old 
and ugly. She is a fitting menial for such employers, 

9 


130 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


and seems to be more of a slave than a servant. I have 
heard both of the men swear at her, and I think that 
they strike her now and then. You must not waste 
any sympathy on her, however, as I am certain that she 
is just as wicked as they are.” 

“Have you ever suggested to your uncle that you 
would like to go out for a while?” 

“Yes, several times; but he always has an objec- 
tion. It is too foggy, or it is going to rain, or it is 
going to do something else. He is always good-na- 
tured and genial about it; but I know very well that 
I am a prisoner.” 

During the last part of Sylvia’s story she and 
Robert were walking across the garden toward the 
house. 

“That nymph,” said Robert, pointing to the marble 
statue of the fountain, “seems rather sad and woebe- 
gone.” 

“Any nymph would feel sad and woebegone if she 
stopped in this awful place, as she has done, for a 
hundred years. I have only been here a week and I 
feel as sad and woebegone as she looks.” 

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t seem to have altered your 
appearance for the worse, for you are still as bright 
and fresh and rosy as the morn.” 

“Now, see here, Mr. Robert Ledyard. Why will 
you persist in making such remarks ? I am afraid that 
a man of your disposition will never be of any real 
assistance. If you really must say such silly things, 
say them to the marble nymph.” 

“Which marble nymph?” 

They had now reached the steps of the veranda, 
and Sylvia extended her hand once more. Suddenly 
she poised her head to one side, as if listening. 

“There,” exclaimed she, “I heard the front door 


ROBERT MEETS THE DENNISONS 131 

close. The Major and his son have returned, and they 
will come, first of all, to the dining-room, which opens 
here upon the veranda. They will see you, if you try 
to cross the garden. Quick! Isn’t there some place 
where you can hide? Oh, dear! what shall we do? 
Perhaps you had better run across the garden anyway. 
It wouldn’t be so bad, if they didn’t see your face. 
They will think you are Mathews, Peterson, Colby, 
or Saunders. Quick! Do something!” 

Right to the left of the porch steps there grew a 
great English ivy. Robert snatched Sylvia’s hand, and 
pressed it for a moment, then he ensconced himself, as 
well as possible, behind the mass of leaves and creepers. 
Sylvia ran up the steps, and disappeared into the house. 
Presently two men, the two whom he; had seen in the 
garden with the girl, came out of the house upon the 
veranda. They were talking together. 

‘T tell you again,” said the old man, “it is too early 
to think of such a thing. We must wait until the 
affair blows over. People forget about such a thing 
very quickly.” 

“Why not go to America?” asked the young man. 

“You forget the custom house.” 

“No, I don’t; but that might be managed.” 

The two now descended the porch steps, and walked 
along the graveled path toward the garden. When 
they had gone forty feet, they stopped and resumed 
their talk. They were, however, so far away, and they 
spoke in such low tones, that, Robert could not get the 
words. He was now very uneasy, for he saw that 
they would surely catch sight of him, if they turned 
and came toward the house. He looked about for a 
means of escape ; but could see no place of refuge, save 
the house itself. 

“Why not,” thought he. “I can hide in the house 


132 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


much better than out of doors. It’s much better to 
take the bull by the horns. Here goes.” 

He stepped quickly to the steps, mounted them 
with a leap and a skip, and entered the door. As bad 
luck would have it, the Major turned at that moment, 
and caught sight of him. 

“Look! Who is that man?” cried the Major. 

At this, he immediately started in pursuit of Robert, 
and was followed by his son. When Robert entered 
the door, he found himself in a short passage, which 
led him into the dining-room. In the dining-room, by 
the French window of the veranda, was standing 
Sylvia. A look of apprehension and astonishment was 
upon her face. Robert was about to pause and say 
something reassuring to the girl; but thought better 
of it. He heard the old man mounting the porch steps, 
and, dashing through the doorway which was opposite 
to the one by which he had entered, he found himself 
in a large, square hallway. 

He turned a corner of the wall, and found a stair- 
way which led upward. At the foot of the stair, stood 
a high-backed chair. He picked up the chair, stood 
back of the jog in the wall, and, as the Major came 
bounding from the dining-room, threw it directly in 
his path. The old man tripped upon it, and, almost 
turning a somersault, lay in a heap upon the floor. 
Robert then sped up the stairs to the first landing, 
turned a corner, and rushed up to the top. As he 
reached the second floor, he heard Arthur Dennison’s 
feet upon the stair. 

“The great thing,” thought Robert, “is to keep 
them from seeing my face. Sylvia was most anxious 
about that. They haven’t seen it yet, anyway.” 

He now dashed into a room, the door of which 
opened opposite the stair landing. In this room there 


ROBERT MEETS THE DENNISONS 133 


was a large desk. For a moment, he thought of hid- 
ing beneath it; but at that instant something better 
came to his notice. In a transverse wall, at the back 
of the room, there was a closet. The door of the 
closet was half open and the opening disclosed a lot of 
clothing which hung upon hooks. The key of the 
door was in the lock, and the doorway of the closet 
was about three feet from the side wall of the house. 
Robert was across the room in an instant. He did not 
enter the closet. Instead he stood in the angle formed 
by the walls, and pulled the door in front of him. 

He had no sooner concealed himself, than Arthur 
Dennison rushed into the room. First, he looked 
under the desk, then he ran to the closet, stood in the 
doorway, and peered within. Robert, bracing himself 
against the wall, gave the door a tremendous shove, 
and Arthur Dennison was shot forward into the closet. 
Robert locked the door, leaving the key in the lock. 
Then he dashed to the other end of the room, and got 
down under the desk. The old Major was, by this 
time, at the top of the stairs, and Arthur was cursing 
volubly, pounding upon the closet door, and demanding 
to be let out. The old man naturally ran to his son’s 
assistance, and, under cover of the hubbub, Rob left his 
hiding-place, stole to the hall doorway, and descended 
the stairs quickly to the lower story. In the dining- 
room he found Sylvia still standing by the window. 
She was wide-eyed and horror-stricken. 

“They haven’t seen my face yet,” he murmured, 
as he passed her. 

The passage which led to the outside door also 
communicated with the basement stairway. As Robert 
was about to enter the passage, he saw coming toward 
him a very stout old woman who wore a black wig, and 
had two chins. She was carrying a tray of china and 


134 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


eatables. Robert pulled down a heavy portiere which 
hung to one side of the entrance door, and, keeping it 
held up before him, rushed upon her. As he met her, 
he flung the portiere over her head. She went down 
beneath the impact, and the noise of broken china 
mingled with her screams. The passage was not wide 
enough for him to pass her body, therefore, he walked 
over her. When he found himself outside of the house, 
he stole down to the back part of the grounds. Then 
he dodged from tree to tree, and from bush to bush 
until he had got to the other side, and had worked his 
way to the apple tree which stood by his window. In 
half a minute more, he was in his room. 

As he peered out between the shutters of his win- 
dow, he could see the Dennisons looking for him. 
They kept it up until dark, and then they got lanterns. 
When he went to bed at eleven o’clock, the two lights 
were still weaving in and out between the trees. 


CHAPTER V 


Sylvia Telegraphs 

Robert watched for Sylvia impatiently all next 
morning, and half of the afternoon. It was four 
o’clock before she came from the house and seated her- 
self upon her favorite stone bench. In less than a min- 
ute he had joined her. 

‘Ts everything all right?” he asked. 

^‘Certainly.” 

‘T am sure they never saw my face.” 

‘T am sure of it myself. Mr. Rob Ledyard, you 
are a wonder. It was like one of those French moving 
picture plays. I have felt like laughing all the time 
since, and the worst was that I didn’t dare. The 
Major has a black eye, and limps awfully. Arthur’s 
back is almost broken where you banged him with the 
door, and old Sarah says you pounded her; but of 
course you only walked over her.” 

“What did they say about it? Who do they think 
I am?” 

“I don’t know what they say about it. I keep away 
from them, because they swear so awfully. The Major 
says you are Colby, and Arthur sticks to it that you 
are Mathews.” 

“Who are Colby and Mathews?” 

“Didn’t I tell you about Mathews, Peterson, Colby 
and Saunders, the four men who owned a third interest 
in Dad’s diamond mine?” 

“But they are in South Africa. Why should the 
Dennisons think that Colby and Mathews are here?” 

135 


136 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


‘‘Because they really are here. The whole four 
are in London.” 

“Why should they be in London?” 

“You are a smart detective, Mr. Rob Le'dyard. Are 
you really so stupid, or are you only acting? They 
are after the diamond of course. They think, just as 
I do, that the Dennisons have it. That strengthens 
my theory, doesn’t it?” 

“Are you absolutely sure that they are in London ?” 

“I ought to be sure. I have seen all four of them, 
not once, but a dozen times. I have looked through 
the shutters of the front, second floor window, and I 
have seen them pass the house. Now it is one and then 
another. They are watching the Major and his son 
as a cat watches a mouse.” 

“What sort of men are they. Are they half way 
respectable citizens, or are they downright villains?” 

“Downright villains is a mild term for them. They 
are rough men and they are dangerous men. They 
mean to have that diamond, and they will stop at 
nothing to gain their ends.” 

“If that is so, the Major and his son are in a tick- 
lish position. I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes. 
I also hate to have you remain in the house. Why, my 
dear girl, these men may resort to violence. They may 
break into the house.” 

“They have already done so. I dislike to make the 
confession ; but I have stooped so far, in my longing to 
discover Dad’s property, that I have been listening to 
the Major and his son whenever and wherever I found 
the opportunity. I have even stood behind doors, and I 
have looked and listened through keyholes. Well, from 
different scraps of talk which I heard, I found that the 
father and son had been lured into a taxicab, upon a 
night, some ten days before I came here. They got 


SYLVIA TELEGRAPHS 


137 


into the cab, supposing that it was an ordinary vehicle. 
After they were once inside, they found the doors 
locked, and the windows screwed shut. Escape was 
impossible, and it was useless to make an outcry. 
They were driven for several miles through the streets 
of London, taken into a sort of covered way, probably 
a mews, where they were pulled out of the cab, and 
dragged into a cellar. Here they were stripped to their 
underclothing and thoroughly searched, and here they 
were kept, bound hand and foot, until the succeeding 
night. During their absence from this house, it was 
broken into and searched thoroughly from top to bot- 
tom. Furniture was overturned, rugs and carpets 
removed, floor boards taken up, pictures taken down. 
The disorder was so complete that it took three work- 
ing men two days to put things in shape again.” 

“Are you sure they didn’t find the diamond?” 

“Of course I am, and the reason is that they are 
still watching the house. I can see them at their oper- 
ations this very minute.” 

“Come now. Miss Sylvia Daunt. You are making 
fun of me. How can they be visible from here?” 

“I am not joking at all, I am in earnest.” 

“You see them now? That is impossible.” 

“I can’t really see them; but I can see what they 
are doing.” 

Sylvia was looking up into the air, above the houses 
on the other side of the street. Rob gazed in the same 
direction; but could see nothing. 

“They may be in an aeroplane; but I can’t see 
them,” said he. 

“Bother aeroplanes. They don’t have to use them. 
Do you see the left-hand window, on the seventh floor, 
in the back of that tenement building, which fronts on 
the next street?” 


138 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


‘‘Yes/’ 

“Do you notice anything peculiar about it?” 

“Nothing at all. There are wooden shutters to it, 
and the slats are almost closed ; so that I can’t see into 
the room.” 

“Don’t you see something hanging out between the 
slats ?” 

“Yes, there are two strips of white cotton cloth, 
about two inches wide. One of them is about a foot 
long, or thereabouts. The other is only half as long.” 

“And yet you said you didn’t notice anything pecu- 
liar. Now I’ll tell you something. That long strip 
means that the Major has gone out. The short strip 
means that his son is also away.” 

“How did you come to any such highly imaginative 
conclusion ?” 

“By watching the window. I watched the window, 
because my eye, one day, was caught by something 
bright moving between the slats. I got a pair of opera 
glasses, looked from between the slats of the front 
second-story window, and made out a man who was 
scrutinizing our house, and also the grounds, with a 
large pair of field glasses. As I was still looking, I 
heard the front door close, and presently the Major 
called me from the lower hall. The (moment he came 
in, the long strip of cotton cloth was drawn through 
the slats. Presently Arthur entered the house, and the 
short piece was withdrawn. I now began to connect 
the strips of cloth with the Major and his son. I 
watched again, the next day, when the Dennisons were 
going out. The Major went first. Immediately the 
long strip appeared; to be followed, at once, by the 
short one. I have come to the conclusion that they are 
signalling some one of their party who is stationed in 
a house in the street behind the grounds. There is 


SYLVIA TELEGRAPHS 


139 


someone in that window up there v/ith a field glass. 
My theory is that they think the diamond may be hid- 
den in the grounds, or that the Dennisons may at- 
tempt to hide it in the grounds, and they are watching, 
to find out, through the movements of the Dennisons, 
where it is hidden, ou to have an eye upon them when 
they do hide it.” 

'‘Now that you have explained the matter, I believe 
in your theory. You are certainly a very clear-sighted 
and ingenious girl. What clever and desperate rogues 
they are ! My dear girl, don’t you see that you your- 
self are in danger? From what you say of these four 
men, I am inclined to think that they would murder 
the Dennisons, if it were necessary. I shudder to think 
of what might happen to you if you were in the house 
when they came. Oh! give the whole thing up, and 
let me get you out of here. Say the word, and I’ll 
break down that wicket in the wall. When you are at 
your Aunt’s, I will come back here, and batter the house 
down, if necessary, to get the diamond.” 

“Indeed, Robert Ledyard, I am sincerely grateful 
to you for your offer; but I think I’ll stick it out a 
little longer. I am searching all the time, and, who 
knows, I may come upon the stone at any moment.” 

“But don’t you see that you are in the very midst 
of a very dangerous intrigue, and that you are likely 
to be caught in the meshes of it. Give the whole thing 
up, Sylvia, and let me get you out of here, this very 
day.” 

“No, I am firmly resolved to try my luck for a 
short time longer. By the way, do you know that you 
just called me by my first name?” 

“Did I? Why, I actually believe I did. That was 
certainly very thoughtless. But is there really any 
harm in it?” . 


140 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


‘‘There certainly is. No young man should call a 
girl by her first name, after only a day’s acquaintance.” 

“Very well, I will wait until tomorrow. But do 
you know, Sylvia, I mean Miss Sylvia, what you really 
ought to do?” 

“I haven’t any idea what you have in mind.” 

“You should tind some respectable and fairly intel- 
ligent young man, not a handsome young man ; but one 
who is clean cut and strong. Also, he should be very 
amiable, and should have an income large enough to 
support you in easy and elegant circumstances.” 

“And what shall I do when I find him?” 

“Why, marry him, of course. It would not then 
be necessary to bother your pretty head about the 
diamond.” 

“I see that you are describing a marriage purely of 
convenience. I shall never make such a marriage. 
If I marry at all, it will be because I love the man, and 
because he loves me.” 

“That is one particular that I forgot to mention. 
The young man would surely love you; so all you 
would have to do is to fall in love with him” 

“That would be very satisfactory, of course; but 
where shall I find such a paragon of a young man?” 

“I had no intention of describing a paragon. I 
meant to make of him just a plain, decent, fairly good- 
looking young chap. To tell you the truth, I was 
thinking of myself.” 

“Do you know, Mr. Rob Ledyard, I have just had 
a very strange and funny idea. I really think that 
you are making love to me.” 

“You are a girl of intelligence and keen perception. 
But what is there strange and funny about it?” 

“It is not only strange and funny. It is absolutely 
ridiculous. You have only known me about twenty- 


SYLVIA TELEGRAPHS 


141 

seven hours, and no man ever proposed to me on such 
a short acquaintance. You are certainly very sudden.” 

“That is so. My friends all call me Robert the 
Sudden.” 

“Well, they make no mistake in calling you so, be- 
sides no man can really fall in love v^ith a girl in 
twenty-seven hours.” 

“But there are girls and girls. It would not be at 
all difficult with you. A man might fall in love with 
you in much less time. Then, again, it has been going 
on for a very much longer time than twenty-seven 
hours. This is Wednesday. I first saw you last Sat- 
urday, and it was then that I commenced.” 

“Oh, nonsense! you never could make me believe 
that. And now, I wish you would stop all this idiotic 
talk. I really am in no mood for an idle flirtation. 
Yesterday I thought you a serious and intelligent young 
man, one who might possibly aid me in recovering my 
father’s fortune. Today, I find that you are a trifler 
like all the rest. I really believe you are what the 
French call a farceur/' 

Sylvia Daunt had a buttonhook in her hands, and 
was turning it idly this way and that. She now let her 
right hand drop over the arm of the settee, and 
drummed softly with the buttonhook upon the stone. 
After a moment, Robert found himself listening to the 
faint tap-tap of the hook. At once, his heart began 
to beat in unison with the sounds. She was tapping 
out some words in the Morse code. Rob had learned 
telegraphy when building railroads in the Western 
States. The meaning of the taps camel to him quickly 
and easily. This is what the buttonhook was saying: 

“What a dear, fine chap he is ! I’m glad he came, 
glad, glad, glad.” 


CHAPTER VI 
Electroliers 


Robert now did something for which he was sorry 
immediately afterward. He took out his knife, and, 
reaching over the arm of the settee, tapped the follow- 
ing message upon the stone: 

“Where did you learn the Morse code?” 

Sylvia gave a start, as she realized that Rob was 
also an operator, and that he had read her words. She 
turned away, bent her head, and a rosy hue spread over 
her neck and cheek. Then she hid her face in her 
hands, and her shoulders heaved and shook as if she 
were weeping. 

“Don’t do that,” Rob exclaimed. “Sylvia dear, 

stop it!” . 

He took both her wrists, pulled her hands from her 
face, and lifted her up. To his amazement and dis- 
comfiture, he found that she was laughing instead of 
crying. 

“I thought,” said she, “that you might also know 
the Morse code, and 1 wanted to see how you would 
take such an expression of sentiment.” 

It is to be hoped that the recording angel did not 
mark these words to Sylvia’s debit. 

“Then you didn’t mean what you said, and the 
words were not true?” 

“There may have been just a little bit of truth in 
them. Sylvia looked at Rob slyly out of the corners 
of her eyes. This would have finished him, even had 
he not already been thoroughly vanquished. 

“But you didn’t answer my question,” said he. 

142 


ELECTROLIERS 


143 


''What question?’' 

"I asked you where you learned the Morse code?” 

"It was in Arizona. Father had a mining claim 
in the mountains, two or three miles distant from the 
nearest railway station. The station consisted only of 
the station building and a water tank, and the station 
building was nothing but a box car without wheels. 
The station agent’s daughter did the company’s tele- 
graph business. She was a very nice girl, and I spent 
a great deal of time with her. She taught me the 
Morse code, and I soon got so that I could read from 
the sound. We had a great deal of fun with it.” 

"You are certainly an adept scholar and an expert. 
It is a fine accomplishment for a girl; but a girl 
shouldn’t use such an accomplishment, as you have just 
done, to tease and tantalize a young man with. You 
sent me a most delightful message, and then you im- 
mediately took back all you said. And now. Miss 
Sylvia, when shall we commence our hunt for the dia- 
mond? I’d give anything I possess to find it for you, 
and something tells me that I am going to do it.” 

"Don’t be too sure. I have looked in every con- 
ceivable place, and so have those four men. However, 
we will begin this very night. We will never have 
such another chance. My uncle and cousin went away 
this afternoon, and they won’t return until eleven 
o’clock. Uncle told me so when he was going out. In 
the first place, you will take tea with me. It is six 
o’clock, and I will go in now, and have Sarah get it 
ready. Don’t stir from the spot, or Sarah will see you 
when she comes into the dining-room. When she is 
through and has gone down stairs, I will come and 
fetch you.” 

Sylvia now left him and went into the house, and 
Robert spent the next half hour in thinking about her. 


144 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


Presently she came through the shrubbery and beck- 
oned him, and they went together into the dining room. 

The tea was served upon a small, round table, and 
Sylvia was facing him. It seemed to him that she 
had never looked more charming and lovely, and he 
forgot to feast; excepting with his eyes. 

“This is certainly delightful,” said Robert, “I can’t 
imagine anything finer than to have you sitting oppo- 
site me at table like this. I want to see you there all 
the rest of my life.” 

“But that couldn’t very well be, you know.” 

“Why not? That will be your place after we are 
married.” 

Sylvia laughed merrily. 

“That is a very unlikely possibility,” said she. “In 
the first place, I have never thought of marrying at all. 
In the second place, if we don’t find the diamond. Dad 
and I will be as poor as church mice, and I couldn’t 
think of becoming an absolute burden upon a man. 
If I should ever marry, I would want to bring my hus- 
band something. Now you must positively stop mak- 
ing love. You have only known me for a day, and 
it is absolutely ridiculous.” 

“But don’t you see, Sylvia, I must make love to 
you now or never. How would it look if I should wait 
until you found a diamond worth two hundred and 
eighty thousand dollars, and should then commence. 
I would be nothing but a fortune hunter.” 

“I’ll tell you what we will do. I will make a bar- 
gain with you. If we find the diamond, then you may 
make love to me.” 

“Sylvia, do you really mean it? You are the 
dearest girl alive. I know that we shall find the dia- 
mond, and, when we find it, you will be mine.” 

“I didn’t say so, at all.” 


ELECTROLIERS 


145 


'What did you say?” 

'T simply said that you might make love to me.” 

Hanging by a thread from the chandelier, above 
the table, there was an imitation apple, smooth, and 
red cheeked. Robert arose, took out his knife, opened 
up the small blade, took the apple, and lanced it a 
dozen times. 

"What, in the name of goodness, are you doing 
that for?” asked Sylvia. 

"I am looking for the diamond.” 

"How silly! As if it would be hidden in any such 
way.” 

"Depend upon it, it is hidden in just such an un- 
likely place. For instance, there is that cut glass vase 
of wax flowers upon the top of the sideboard. Have 
you looked in the bottom of it ?” 

"No, but I will now.” 

She arose, ran to the sideboard, took the vase, and 
emptied out the flowers. 

"It isn’t here,” said she, in a disappointed tone. 

"I didn’t really expect that you would find it there. 
I just wanted to see if you had examined the vase, and 
I wanted to show that those were the kind of places in 
which we must look for it. Now, I wish you would 
sit down again and tell me just what you have done, 
and where you have searched.” 

"I have thoroughly searched every room in the 
house above the basement; not excepting the attic. I 
divided every room into small squares; so as to over- 
look no part of it, and I went carefully over every inch 
of every square. I lifted all the rugs and looked at 
every particle of floor, for loose boards. I searched 
every drawer and every compartment of every bureau, 
desk, cabinet, bookcase and table. Also I measured 
them all minutely; so as to see if there were any con- 
10 


146 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


cealed cavities. I looked behind every picture. I took 
every book from the shelves and opened it, to find if 
the diamond had been hidden in the back. I looked in 
all the mattresses and pillows, and I turned every chair 
and table upside down, and sought for plugged up 
holes. It really doesn’t seem that a single hiding-place 
could have escaped me.” 

“And yet you didn’t puncture the cloth apple, or 
look in the vase. After all, you know, the diamond 
may not be in the house at all.” 

“Oh, I know that it is. Here is another thing that 
makes me think so. There isn’t a closet, a cabinet, a 
desk, or a bureau in the house that is locked. Where 
they have locks, the key is in the lock. That looks 
suspicious. It is just as if the Major had said, T have 
left everything open. The stone is hidden where you 
can’t find it. Now go ahead and try.’ ” 

“It looks to me as if he had left everything open, 
so as to mislead you, and that the stone is really con- 
cealed in some curious, out-of-the-way manner. Did 
you ever read Poe’s story of the purloined letter?” 

“Yes, but I have forgotten what it was about.” 

“Some minister of the French government stole a 
love letter from the French queen. As long as he 
possessed it, she was in his power, and he could do as 
he had a mind to. She employed the prefect of) police 
to get the letter for her, and he had every square inch 
of the minister’s house and furniture searched, just as 
you and the four men have searched the Major’s house. 
The minister obligingly used to go away from town 
for a day or two, in order to give them every facility. 
In that, he resembled the Major, who has left every- 
thing open, and all the keys in all the locks. Failing 
to find the letter, the prefect of police went finally to 
Monsieur Dupin, the great detective. 


ELECTROLIERS 


147 


“You didn’t find the letter,” said Dupin, “because 
the place of concealment was too obvious, too palpable. 
The minister is a smart man, and probably hasn’t hid- 
den the letter at all. You have probably seen it a 
dozen times while you were searching.” 

“The prefect scouted the idea. Monsieur Dupin 
laughed, and offered to find the letter, which he did, 
the first time he went to the minister’s house. In the 
minister’s office, upon the wall, there was a dilapidated 
card rack. In this card rack there was stuck a card 
or two, and a much worn and grimy letter. In those 
days, they had no envelopes. The letter was simply 
folded and sealed. The minister had taken the Queen’s 
love letter, folded it the wrong way, written his own 
address upon it, smeared it with dirt, and thrust it into 
the card rack. The prefect and his men, while en- 
gaged upon their meticulous search, had looked at that 
letter a hundred times; but had not thought it worth 
while to examine it. They supposed, of course, that 
it was some old letter, of no importance, belonging to 
the minister. I am convinced that we must look for 
something like that. When shall we commence to 
hunt, and where shall we commence?” 

“We can go right at it now, and I think that we 
had better commence upstairs; say in the library.” 

“This room,” said Sylvia, when they had ascended 
the stairs, and had come into the library, “was formerly 
the Major’s sleeping-room. That accounts for the 
clothing in the closet. He has now moved down- 
stairs to a room opposite the dining-room, and this 
apartment is used for a library.” 

The old house had been wired, not very long be- 
fore, for electricity. It was now getting dark, and 
the girl pressed a button, thereby lighting the electrolier 
in the center of the room. 


148 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


‘‘Now,” exclaimed she, “let’s begin to look.” 

“No,” said Robert, “let’s sit down and think.” 

“If we thought all night. I’m afraid it wouldn’t 
do any good.” 

“We can try, anyway.” 

Rob sat down opposite Sylvia, and began to look 
at the electrolier. The electrolier had three chains, at 
the ends of which were three frosted glass globes, 
which enclosed the glass bulbs or lamps. These chains 
hung from a brass disc which 'was fastened to the 
ceiling. A brass cup or bowl was screwed to the disc 
underneath, in order to hide the wires. 

“What are you looking at the ceiling for so stead- 
ily?” asked Sylvia. “What do you expect to find up 
there?” 

“I am not looking at the ceiling. I’m looking at 
the electrolier. That brass bowl, underneath the round 
plate on the ceiling, screws off. Perhaps the diamond 
is in the bottom of it.” 

“Dear me! perhaps it is. How provoking that I 
never thought of it.” 

“It is so high that I can’t reach it without a step 
ladder. Have you such a thing about ?” 

“There’s one in the attic.” 

“I’ll go and get it presently. Meanwhile, let us try 
to think of some other hiding-place. There’s that 
brass candlestick on the book case. Perhaps the dia- 
mond is down in the socket, under the end of the 
candle.” 

Sylvia took the candle from the candle stick and 
turned the candle stick upside down. She then put 
her finger into the socket. 

“It isn’t here,” said she. 

“Perhaps they have hidden it in the works of the 
clock. I’ll have a look, anyway.” 


ELECTROLIERS 


149 


Robert went to the mantel shelf, turned the clock 
around, opened the door, and peered into the works. 

“That would be too easy,” said he. “I might have 
known they wouldn’t hide it here.” 

After they had spent an hour in useless surmises 
and explorations, Robert went beneath the electrolier 
and looked up at it. 

“Why is it,” he asked, “that only two of the bulbs 
are lighted? Is the other one burned out?” 

“I think so. It has been that way ever since I 
came.” 

“Sylvia, come here,” exclaimed Robert, suddenly. 

Sylvia came obediently, and standing close to him, 
looked upward. 

“Isn’t there something in the bottom of that un- 
lighted glass bulb?” asked he excitedly. 

“Yes, I can see it.” 

“What does it look like?” 

“Oh, Robert! it looks like the oval diamond.” 


CHAPTER VII 
A Helping Hand 

Robert tried to reach the electric bulb, but could 
not. He then hunted around until he found a has- 
sock, placed it under the electrolier, stepped upon it, 
and unscrewed the bulb from its socket. He handed 
it to Sylvia, who tipped it up and down, thus causing 
the object which it contained to rattle from one end to 
the other of the bulb. 

“That is certainly the diamond,” said she, “but it 
looks dull and opaque. What can be the reason of it?” 

“They have probably covered it with shellac, or 
some such liquid.” 

“But how did they ever get it in there?” 

“That would be easy. All you have to do is to cut 
out the little lead nib, where the glass goes into the 
brass sleeve, and the glass will come out easily. What 
do you say ? Shall we open it up ?” 

“Yes, of course. No, I think it would be better 
to wait until we are safely away. Now that we have 
found the diamond, I want to go at once. Is there any 
way by which you can get me out of here tonight?” 

“There certainly is. I saw some old posts lying 
back of the house. Pll get one and break down the 
wicket in the stone wall. Get your things ready, and 
we will start immediately. First, though, I think it 
would be better to get an electric bulb from one of the 
other rooms, and screw it into the place of this one. 
That will prevent them from discovering their loss for 
quite a while.” 

“Oh, dear, is it absolutely necessary? I want to 

150 


A HELPING HAND 


151 

go right now. Somehow I am frightfully nervous. I 
don’t even feel like getting any of my things. The 
Major and his son may come at any moment. Sup- 
pose they should find us here?” 

“Pshaw, there is no such hurry. Besides, I have 
just thought of a way of checkmating them. I will 
fix the electroliers in the upper and lower halls, so that 
they can’t light them.” 

He now went down to the first story,, and stand- 
ing upon the stair, reached up to the electrolier, and 
gave its two lamps a slight turn to the left, thus 
breaking the circuit. Then, ascending the stairs again, 
he did the same thing to the electrolier in the upper 
hall. 

“Now,” said he, “we will replace the bulb.” 

Sylvia took him into a small room, across the hall- 
way from the library, which was not in general use. 

“They would never notice it,” said she, “if you 
took one from here. You will have to stand on the 
hassock to reach it. I will bring you one.” 

When she had brought the hassock, Robert stood 
upon it, unscrewed the bulb, and handed it down to 
her. They then went into the library once more, 
Robert stood upon the hassock again, she handed him 
up the bulb, and he screwed it into place. Just then, 
they heard a motor cab come rolling down the street, 
and stop in front of the house. 

“There they are,” cried Sylvia. “I knew they 
would come. Dear me! what shall we do now?” 

“We can’t get away tonight, without a row, and 
of course, I can’t have you in it. I will get you away 
tomorrow. Run to your room, and lock yourself in. 
If they call you, pretend you are asleep. You need not 
worry about me. I’ll take care of myself.” 

“But don’t get in their way. They have revolvers; 


152 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


at least, Arthur has one, and I know they wouldn’t 
hesitate to use them.” 

He took her hand and pressed it, and she ran along 
the hall, and entered her room. Footsteps now sounded 
upon the stoop, and a key was inserted in the lock of 
the front door. Robert fixed the library electrolier as 
he had those of the hallways. The light went out, as 
the circuit was broken, and the house was in total 
darkness. 

The front door was now opened and shut, and Rob 
knew that the Major and his son had entered the house. 

“Curse it! what’s the matter with the electric?” 
demanded one of them, after a moment. “I’ve 
punched the button, and it won’t light. Perhaps the 
current is off.” 

“No, it isn’t off, for the library was lighted as we 
drove up. Whoever lighted it turned it off as we 
came in. I don’t like the looks of it.” 

“Perhaps Sylvia was in there.” 

“Perhaps she was. We’ll find out about it any- 
way.” 

“The Major and his son now came up the stairs, 
went along the hallway to Sylvia’s room, and knocked 
loudly on the door. At first, there was no answer. 
They knocked again, this time more loudly still. 

“What is it?” asked Sylvia, with a half suppressed 
yawn. 

“Were you in the library just now?” 

“In the library?” asked the girl, as if she were 
half awake. 

“Yes, did you light the lamps there.” 

“No.” 

So far, Sylvia had adhered strictly to the truth. 

“There’s someone in the house,” said the Major, 
with conviction, to his son. ‘Tt’s probably that same 


A HELPING HAND 


153 

fellow who was here yesterday,, Colby or Mathews, or 
some other of the gang.” 

“Then they are probably in the library,” said 
Arthur. “Here goes! Now is the chance to round 
’em up.” 

“Better be careful, Arthur. The whole four may 
be here. See if you can light the lamps. Push the 
button.” 

Arthur groped his way along the hall. 

“Same thing as down-stairs,” said he, after a mo- 
ment. “The whole dashed thing is out of commission. 
It’s doubtless their work. I haven’t a match about 
me. Have you?” 

“Not one. There’s a candle and matches in the 
library, though. Come on. We might as well have 
it over with at once.” 

Father and son went along the hallway, and entered 
the library. Robert was flattened against the wall, just 
inside the door. After they had come into the room, 
he edged along the wall toward the door, meaning to 
make a bolt for liberty. As ill luck would have it, his 
foot caught in the rug. He stumbled, and made no 
end of noise. In a second his adversaries were upon 
him. Arthur came first. Robert caught him by the 
shoulders, whirled him around, and threw him against 
the Major, who was knocked to the floor by the impact. 
It was pitch dark, and he miscalculated the position of 
the door. While he was groping for it, Arthur was 
upon him again. Rob struck out with his fists man- 
fully, and did considerable damage; but Arthur man- 
aged to maintain his hold until the Major came to his 
assistance. 

The battle now became indiscriminate and sanguin- 
ary. The Dennisons pounded, kicked and swore. 
Robert had his right arm around the major’s neck, and 


154 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


was slowly, but surely, choking him. At the same 
time, he was belaboring Arthur about the head with his 
left fist. Rob was much favored by the darkness. No 
matter where he struck, he struck a foe, whereas, the 
Dennisons hit each other as often as they hit Rob. 

‘‘Shoot him!” gasped out the old man. “He’s 
choking me. Curse you! Why don’t you shoot?” 

“Lost — pistol — dropped — on floor,” answered 
Arthur, with what breath he could muster. 

Suddenly Rob made a supreme effort and broke 
away from his adversaries. He sprang for the door- 
way, and turned about. 

“I’ve got the pistol,” announced he grimly. “If 
you don’t believe me, come on and see.” 

Just as he gained the door, and before he had got 
into the hallway, Arthur cried out: 

“He lies. I’ve got the pistol. I just found it.” 

With that, he fired the weapon, and the bullet 
thudded into the door jamb. Rob jumped toward the 
stair landing; but, in the darkness, missed it, and ran 
into the wall of the passage, some feet to the right of 
it. He then commenced to grope along the wall, mak- 
ing the mistake of going to the right, instead of to the 
left, and after proceeding about twenty-five feet, 
brought up against the end wall of the hallway. There 
was a door upon either side of him. He tried the 
knobs, but found both doors locked. 

“He’s gone down the passage, the doors there are 
locked, and we’ve got him,” cried the Major, who had 
come into the hall, “give me the pistol and I’ll hold him 
here. You get the candle from the top of the book- 
case, and light it. Glory be! we’ve caught the hound 
at last.” 

“It looks like a show down,” said Rob to himself. 
“A minute more and the jig is up. At the best, they 


A HELPING HAND 


155 


will see that I am neither Mathews, Peterson, Colby 
or Saunders, and that will bring Sylvia into it. Great 
Caesar! What’s to do?” 

Just then he felt a cool draught of air upon his 
cheek, which came from somewhere upon the right of 
the passageway, a hand touched his arm, felt its way 
downward, and clasped his own. The hand was small, 
firm and pleasing to the touch, and he knew imme- 
diately whose hand it was. There was a gentle pull, 
and he followed the hand through an open doorway, 
into a room beyond. 

“Don’t speak above a whisper,” commanded Sylvia, 
after she had ^noiselessly closed and locked the door. 
“I don’t know what I shall do with you, now that you 
are here. Of course, you can only stay here a moment.” 

“Of course, but there must be some way out. 
There’s a window over there. I can get out of that.” 

The window was open. Rob went to it, and looked 
out. It seemed to give upon the back part of the 
grounds, and as nearly as he could see, the sill was 
about twenty feet from the ground. There was no 
chance of escape that way. He pointed to a door in 
the front, transverse wall. 

“Where does that door lead to ?” he asked. 

“That leads to my bed chamber.” 

“And what is beyond that?” 

“The library. There is a door from the bed room 
to the library.” 

“Let me out of that. Arthur has by this time got 
the candle, and they will be coming down the passage. 
Meanwhile, I will get into the library, and reach the 
stairway.” 

The only light in the room came from the open 
window. It was dark and feeble, and Sylvia found it 
necessary to take his hand and pilot him through her 


156 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


bedroom. After she had unlocked the door which led 
into the library, Rob paused a moment. 

“I will be watching tomorrow morning,” said he. 
‘‘As soon as the coast is clear, come out into the 
garden, and I will join you, and take you away from 
here.” 

With that, he put his arm around her waist, bent 
down, and kissed her full upon the mouth. 

“You mustn’t do that, Robert,” said she. 


CHAPTER VIII 
Up A Tree 

After listening a moment, to assure herself that 
Arthur Dennison had got the candle, lighted it, and 
gone into the hallway, Sylvia noiselessly unlocked the 
door and opened it. Robert slipped into the library, 
and she closed the door. Then he felt his way along 
the wall until he reached the hall doorway. 

The old man and his son had meanwhile gone 
down to the end of the passage, and found it empty. 

“Where in demnition has the blighter gone?” asked 
the Major. 

“Are you sure he was in the passage?” 

“Dead sure. I heard him moving along the wall. 
He either got into the billiard room, or Sylvia’s room.” 

Arthur tried the knobs of the door to the left and 
the door to the right. 

“They are both locked,” said he. 

“Perhaps he has keys. We’ll try the billiard room 
first.” 

The Major produced a key, and unlocked the left- 
hand door. The two men entered the room, and 
searched it thoroughly. They looked under the bil- 
liard table, and they lifted up the sash of the window, 
and peered out upon the veranda roof. Then they 
came back and knocked upon Sylvia’s door. 

“Sylvia, Sylvia !” called out the Major. “Are you 
awake ?” 

“Of course I am,” answered the girl in a frightened 
voice. “Who wouldn’t be? What is all that noise, 
and who fired the pistol ? lam half scared to death.” 

157 


158 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


“Don’t be alarmed, Sylvia; but open the door. I 
want to see you.” 

“I shall do no such thing. I can’t see anyone as 
I am now. What an idea Besides, I don’t dare to.” 

“Sylvia, we think that there is a man in your room, 
the one who was in the house yesterday. Let us in 
at once!” 

“No, no, I can’t. Besides, there’s no one here. 
The door is locked, and the key is in the lock. It 
would be impossible for anyone to get in.” 

Rob could hear every word of the conversation. 
Sylvia was certainly a very smart girl. He admired 
her acting, and a thrill of love swept his heart strings, 
as he realized that she was doing it all for him. The 
situation, however, might become decidedly unpleasant 
for her, and something must be done at once. There- 
fore, to draw them away from her door, he sprang 
across the hallway, and clattered down the stairs, with 
all the noise possible. At once, he heard the Dennisons 
come pounding along the passage in pursuit. 

Once down-stairs, he sought the dining-room, felt 
his way across the apartment, and tried the door of 
the passage. It was locked, and the key had been 
removed. In a moment the idea came to him to kick 
out the glass of one of the French windows which led 
to the porch. His enemies, however, were too close 
at his heels, he might not succeed at the first attempt, 
and they would be upon his back. He therefore cir- 
cled about the room swiftly, and passed through a door- 
way in the side wall which led to the parlor. Sylvia 
and he had made a cursory exploration of the first and 
second stories of the house, early that evening; so that 
he had a pretty good idea of his surroundings. His 
plan was to reach another door, which opened from 
the parlor to the front hall, to ascend the stairs again, 


UP A TREE 


159 


and to make his escape to the roof of the porch, through 
the billiard room window. Just then, he stumbled 
against a large easy chair, and sat down in it involun- 
tarily. 

The two men had now entered the dining room. 

“Where is the confounded rotter?” demanded the 
Major. 

“He isn’t here. That’s plain, and he couldn’t have 
got out of the house, as I locked the passage door be- 
fore we went upstairs. Try the parlor.” 

Robert got up from the chair, seized the loose heavy 
cushion, upon which he had sat, and stood to one side 
of the dining-room door. As Arthur Dennison came 
through the doorway, carrying the lighted candle, Rob 
brought the cushion down with great force. The 
candle was dashed to the floor and extinguished, and 
Arthur reeled against the jamb, and came to his knees. 
Robert then stole through the parlor, got into the hall- 
way, and tiptoed lightly and swiftly upstairs. He 
found the door of the billiard room open, and the sash 
of the window raised. In a moment more, he was out 
upon the veranda roof. As ill luck would have it, the 
roof was somewhat steep, his foot slipped, and there 
was a great noise of scraping feet and crackling tin. 

By this time, the Dennisons had succeeded in turn- 
ing on the electric lights of the parlor and the dining- 
room. Rob could see the light from the dining-room 
streaming out through ihe windows, and could hear 
the sound of running feet. 

“He’s on the roof,” cried the Major. “I can hear 
him. Run up to the billiard room, Arthur, and keep 
him there. I’ll go outside, and head him off.” 

Robert heard the dining room passage door un- 
locked and opened, and knew that the old man would 
be out of the house before he himself could drop to 


i6o 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


the ground. Arthur was already coming along the 
upper hallway, and retreat by way of the billiard room 
was also impossible. Fifteen or twenty feet away from 
the house, at a point near the front end of the veranda, 
there grew a large and very old chestnut tree. Its 
foliage was thick and dark, and some of the larger 
branches came within five feet of the edge of the porch 
roof. Rob stepped down into the eaves, gave a flying 
leap, caught hold of a stout limb of the tree, and drew 
himself up into its shelter. Then, working his way 
along . from one branch to another, he found a large 
horizontal limb, and sat down upon it. His resting- 
place was only about twelve feet from the ground ; but 
diere was a mass of leaves immediately beneath him, 
which would effectually hide him from the vision of 
a person standing below. In fact, he felt quite com- 
fortable and secure. 

The Major now came rushing from the house, took 
his stand about fifteen feet away from the walls, and 
peered upward toward the porch roof. At the same 
time, Arthur, whO' had again lighted the candle, thrust 
his head from the billiard room window. 

“He isn’t here. Dad. He must have dropped 
down.” 

“No, he didn’t. I’d have seen him or heard him. 
All the same he seems to have got away. But come 
down here quick. I’ve got an idea.” 

In a few moments Arthur joined his father beneath 
the tree. 

“In the first place,” demanded the old man, “who, 
in the name of the old Nick, is the bally rascal?” 

“How should I know? I haven’t even set eyes on 
him squarely. Sometimes I think he’s Colby, and 
sometimes Mathews. He couldn’t be Peterson or 
Saunders. They are not tall enough. One thing is 


UP A TREE 


i6i 


certain, Dad, he is the same blighter who was here 
yesterday. I’d swear to that.” 

‘^Sometimes I think he is neither one of the four; 
though why anyone else should mix up in this thing I 
can’t see.” 

‘‘Do you think that he and Sylvia might be in league 
together ?” 

“That’s rot, you imbecile. She was only in Lon- 
don a day or two before she came here, and I’m bally 
well sure that she has met no one since.” 

“Well, what, in the name of the old Harry, has 
become of him? You said you had an idea.” 

“So I have. Now I’ll swear he didn’t drop to the 
ground, and you are dead sure he didn’t get back into 
the billiard room. There’s only one other place he 
may have got to.” 

“And where’s that. Dad?” 

“He may be perched up somewhere in this tree.” 

“Oh, that’s bloomin’ nonsense. There isn’t one 
man in a thousand could make the jump.” 

“This isn’t a man. He’s a devil. You ought to 
know that by this time.” 

“If you think he’s in the tree, why don’t you take 
two or three pot shots with your automatic? He’ll 
bally well come down then.” 

“No, it wouldn’t do. It’s all well enough to fire 
it in the house. The sound doesn’t travel through the 
walls ; but, two or three shots here, out of doors, would 
rouse the whole neighborhood, and bring the bobbies 
down on us at once. I have just thought of something 
better. Go into the house and get my air rifle from 
the brackets on the wall of my room. Also, get a 
lantern, the one with the reflector.” 

Arthur at once entered the house to obey his father’s 
orders. Rob pondered the situation for a moment. It 

11 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


162 

was not for nothing that he had been called ^'Robert 
the Sudden.” He fell forward, grasped a branch 
which was about four feet away, and which was im- 
mediately above the spot where the Major was stand- 
ing, swung himself down, and .dropped upon the old 
man’s head and shoulders. The Major uttered a loud 
yell and collapsed, half stunned, to the ground. Robert 
arose unhurt, and prodded the Major with his foot, to 
see how badly he was hurt. At that moment, young 
Dennison, arrested by his father’s cry, turned and 
raced back across the dining room, and out upon the 
veranda. Rob saw that it would be unwise to cross 
the garden to his apple tree, as he would be in full view 
for most of the way, and his mode of ingress and egress 
would be discovered. He therefore ran toward the 
back of the Dennison house, and concealed himself in 
a clump of bushes. 

'‘What ails you. Dad? What has happened?” 
asked Arthur, as he lifted the Major to his feet. 

"That infernal son of perdition dropped out of the 
tree onto my head. Curse him, he almost broke my 
back.” 

"Ho, ho!” laughed Arthur. "He’s a joker and no 
mistake. Dad, you look a sight, ho, ho !” 

"What are you laughing at, you confounded young 
cub? And what are you standing there for? Why 
don’t you go after him?” 

"Where did he go to?” 

The Major pointed out the direction which Rob had 
taken. Arthur at once started off in pursuit, and the 
old man limped along behind him. 

Rob now left his place of concealment, and, doub- 
ling around the back of the house, struck the wall, and 
followed it down toward the end of the lot. Presently 
he found a ladder lying upon the ground, beside the 


UP A TREE 


163 


wall. To raise it, and place it against the top of the 
wall was the work of an instant. His thought was to 
mount to the top, and to drop upon the further side. 
It didn’t matter to whom the grounds might belong. 
Any change would be an improvement. As, however, 
he was about to mount the rungs, his pursuers came 
into view, and he was forced to give over the under- 
taking, and to conceal himself in the neighboring 
shrubbery. Another moment, and Arthur had found 
the ladder. 

“Here’s where he comes in, and where he gets out,” 
cried he. 

“But when we lost him yesterday, the ladder was 
not against the wall.” 

“Of course not. The blighter kicked it over, after 
he was on top of the wall. He was just going to climb 
it now, but I came up and scared him off. You wait 
here in the bushes, and stop him if he tries to climb 
the ladder. I’ll circle around, and rout him out of his 
hiding-place.” 

After Arthur had gone, the Major stood in the 
shadow of a tree and watched the ladder. The auto- 
matic was in his hand, and he was prepared this time 
to shoot, no matter what the risk would be. 

Presently the form of a man came to him out of the 
semi-darkness. He couldn’t see the face, but the figure 
looked like that of his son. 

“Couldn’t you find him?” the old man demanded. 

“Hush!” came in a whisper. “He’s close by, and 
will hear you. He doesn’t know that I’ve seen him. 
Give me the pistol. I’ve got him this time.” 

The Major handed over the pistol without demur, 
and the figure vanished in the darkness. After Rob 
had regained his room, he took the automatic, and 
emptied out the cartridges. 


164 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


“That’s a wicked-looking thing,” said he. “It’s 
just as well that they’ve seen the last of it. They 
might finally do some damage with it. This has cer- 
tainly been a weird evening. But all’s well that ends 
well. Sylvia has the diamond, and tomorrow we’re off. 
Great Caesar, but I’m tired.” 


CHAPTER IX 
The Messenger 

Robert arose at an early hour the next morning, 
hurried the servant with his breakfast, and ate with 
undue haste, that he might be at his post by the window 
when Sylvia appeared. He might have spared the 
extra trouble, as she was uncommonly late that morn- 
ing. His disappointment grew, as hour after hour 
passed, and still she did not come from the house. 

‘‘The Dennisons are still there,” thought he, “and 
the dear girl can’t get away.” 

It now occurred to him that he might find put 
whether the Major and his son were at home, by get- 
ting a look at the top, left-hand window in the back 
of the tenement house, upon the next street. It was not 
visible from his own window ; but, after he had climbed 
out upon the wall, he found that, by leaning forward, 
and stretching his neck to the utmost, he could get a 
glimpse of it through the tree tops. At ten o’clock 
there were no signs of the strips of white cotton cloth. 
At eleven, however, the long strip came through the 
slats. At half past one, Rob grew tired of waiting. 

“The old man has gone out,” said he to himself, 
“but that confounded whelp of a son of his is still 
there. I suppose he is making love to Sylvia. If he 
doesn’t depart in fifteen minutes. I’ve a mind to go over 
there and hurry him up a bit.” 

Fortunately, perhaps, for all the parties concerned, 
Rob was not reduced to this extremity. Before the 
quarter hour had expired, the short strip of white cot- 
ton cloth came through the slats. 


165 


i66 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


“There he goes,” exclaimed Robert, joyfully, “and 
now for Sylvia.” 

Saying this, he clambered down the tree, and sprang 
to the ground. Sylvia was apparently as eager for the 
meeting as he, for she came from the house at that 
moment, and they met at the fountain. 

“I was coming to get you for luncheon,” said she, 
“Old Sarah has brought it up for me, and has gone 
down-stairs again. Come right in. I wished to see 
you the very worst way.” 

When Robert was seated opposite her at table, he 
noticed, for the first time, that she looked sad and 
downcast. In fact, her eyes showed signs of recent 
tears. 

“Why are you so mournful, Sylvia?” asked he. 
“Has that insufferable cad been bothering you again? 
I was coming over here on the suspicion that such was 
the case, and I was going to show him what for. I’m 
sorry now that I didn’t. Never mind, though, this is 
the end of it. After luncheon you must pack at once, 
and we will leave this robber’s den. You have the 
diamond ; so nothing is left but to get away.” 

“But I haven’t the diamond,” said Sylvia plaintively. 

“How is that? Did they take it away from you 
again ?” 

“No, not that. Oh, Robert, I have been such a 
ninny, such an idiot. What do you think ? When you 
stood on the hassock, and I went to hand you up the 
electric bulb, that you were to screw in place of the one 
which contained the diamond, I made a mistake, and 
gave you the wrong one. Oh, Robert, you put the one 
with the diamond back in the electrolier.” 

“We will go up at once, and take it out again.” 

“It isn’t there,” said Sylvia, despairingly. “When 
I found, this morning, what a foolish thing I had done, 


THE MESSENGER 


167 


I ran to the library, to get the diamond, and found 
that there was nothing in the bulb. They became 
alarmed at finding a man in the library, last night, and 
have removed and hidden the stone somewhere else.” 

“Never mind, little girl. We will dig it up this 
afternoon, just as we did last night. By the by, are 
you sure that they have left it in the house this time?” 

“Absolutely sure. They wouldn’t dare take it 
away with them. They are as afraid as death of those 
four men, Mathews, Peterson, Colby and Saunders. It 
is a wonder to me that they have left the Dennisons in 
peace for so long. I feel it in my bones that they are 
due to start something right away.” 

“That is what I am afraid of. Dearest. And I 
don’t want you here at the time. Let me get you out 
at once and I will take care of the diamond.” 

“No, I am determined to stay until we recover it. 
But do you know what you called me then? You 
called me ‘Dearest.’ You mustn’t call me such names.” 

“Why not ? I believe in calling a thing by its right 
name. You are the dearest thing in the world to me, 
and so I call you so.” 

“You were not to make love to me until we found 
the diamond.” 

“We did find the diamond.” 

“But only to lose it again at once. It is just as if 
we had never found it. You must stop all love-making 
until we recover it.” 

“Sylvia, I must confess to thinking something very 
selfish, just now. Do you know, when you told me 
of your loss of the stone, my sympathy was tinged with 
the least bit of elation. Ever since we found the dia- 
mond, last night, I have been worried. You had 
property worth two hundred and eighty thousand} dol- 
lars, while my whole fortune amounts to but half that 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


i68 

sum. I was afraid that you wouldn’t think that I 
loved you for yourself alone. Now, it is different, and 
you will be more likely to believe it.” 

‘‘But would you really be willing to take me without 
a penny?” 

“Naturally. To my mind you yourself are the 
only treasure upon earth worth having.” 

“Mr. Rob Ledyard, you certainly do say the very 
nicest things. Do all young men in America talk like 
that? If they did, it would make any English girl 
sorry that she wasn’t born American. By the by, tell 
me about your sister. Is she married, or single, tall or 
short, light or fair?” 

“I will answer in a moment. But I see, Sylvia, 
that you did really read my letters. Did you not now, 
Sylvia, truly?” 

Sylvia’s fair cheek took on a rosier glow. 

“I might have taken just a peep or two at them,” 
said she. 

“And now,” continued Rob, “I will tell you about 
my sister. She is tall and light, and she is married. 
She married Dick Travis, a friend of mine, a year ago. 
Margery is a tall, handsome, stately girl, and Dick, 
though he loved her wildly, was so afraid of her that 
he never could bring himself to propose. At the last, 
I really had to do it for him.” 

“Ha, ha ! I can see you doing it. I am certain of 
one thing, Mr. Rob Ledyard, and that is that no one 
will ever have to propose for you. You are absolutely 
the boldest young man I have ever met, and I have met 
quite a few. You commenced to make love to me a 
few hours only after we met, and, what is more, you 
keep on doing it, no matter what I say.” 

“A man can’t help it, when he loves a girl as truly, 
madly and devotedly as I do you.” 


THE MESSENGER 


169 

‘There you go again. I will say this for you, 
though : You are as bold with men as you are with 
women. That is your saving grace. And now, let 
us go to work. I am in a fever of impatience. Do 
you really think we can find it again?” 

“We will find it. Darling, if it is in the house.” 

Sylvia pushed a button which sounded an electric 
bell in the kitchen, and she and Robert proceeded on 
their way to the library. 

“Aren’t you afraid that old Sarah will hear us 
talking?” asked he. 

“Not at all. She is very deaf, and can scarcely 
hear the bell. We have to shout at her, even when 
she is in the room with us. Besides that, she is asleep 
the most of the afternoon. I regret to say that Sarah 
has a penchant for strong liquors. She has a square, 
black bottle usually within reach, and she is doubtless 
already under way toward a blissful state of coma,” 

“Now then,” said Rob, when they were once more 
seated in the library, “have you anything to suggest?” 

“Not a thing. I have looked in a lot of places this 
morning. I spent a whole hour at it while the men 
were down-stairs.” 

“Where did you look?” 

“In the first place, I examined every electric-light 
bulb in every electrolier upon this floor.” 

“They wouldn’t be likely to hide the stone twice in 
the same kind of a place.” 

“Then I took all the pots and bottles of vaseline, 
cold cream and all that sort of thing, that were in the 
medicine closet in the bath room, and upon the dressing 
bureaus, and jabbed a hat pin lots of times to the bot- 
tom of them.” 

“That was better. They might very well have hit 
upon some such hiding-place.” 


170 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


''Oh, I don’t know where else I didn’t look. Now, 
please, Robert, set your brain to work, and see what 
you can think of.” 

Before he could answer, they heard the jangling of 
a bell. 

"That is the front door bell,” announced Sylvia. 
"I wonder who is there. Come out into the hall, and 
I will look over the balusters.” 

When they had gone into the hallway, Sylvia went 
down two or three steps of the stair, leaned over the 
rail and reconnoitered. There were two doors, and 
the upper halves of them were glazed. 

"There’s a boy there,” said she, "a ragged, rough- 
looking boy of twelve or fourteen. I wonder what he 
wants. Come on down, and we will find out.” 

"What do you want, boy?” demanded Rob, when 
he and Sylvia had descended the stairs. 

"I got a letter fer youse,” answered the urchin. 

"Where did you get it? Who gave it to you?” 

"It wuz give me by a gent, in a ’ouse in Clerkenwell. 
He looks outen a winder in de fourt story, and trows 
it hout. Wen I grabs it, dere wuz two bob hinside 
o’ it. I reads de name on it, an’ I knows as ’e wants 
me fer to bring it ’ere. So ’ere I comes.” 

Sylvia and Robert could hear this very plainly 
through the closed door. 

"Boy,” said Robert, "we can’t open the door. We 
haven’t got the key. Can’t you slip it under the door ?” 

In a moment more, a soiled piece of note paper, 
about four by six inches in size, was shoved through 
the crack. Rob picked it up and examined it. 

"Say, Guvnor,” asked the boy, "carnt yuh gimme 
another bob? I runs ’ere mos’ de way. Dat’s honest. 
Guvnor.” 

Robert took a shilling piece and shoved it under 


THE MESSENGER 


171 

the door, whereat the boy opened one of the outer 
vestibule doors and departed. 

Rob now looked at the paper more attentively. 
‘‘Sylvia,” said he, “here is something very curious 
and very important. Come up into the library right 
off, and we will see what there is to it.” 


CHAPTER X 


The Cryptogram 

When they were in the library, Robert drew chairs 
up to the desk for himself and Sylvia, and spread the 
paper before her. 

“The message,” said he, “is addressed, upon this 
side of the sheet, to Arthur Dennison, 46 Salton Street. 
Do you know whose handwriting this is?” 

“Certainly. It is Uncle’s handwriting. I have 
seen his writing many times, and I ought to know.” 

“Then your respected uncle is cooped up, at the 
present time, in a room upon the fourth story of some 
old house in Clerkenwell Road. It looks as if his four 
enemies had got him. As you said, they were about 
due to start something. Now we will look at the other 
side.” 

He showed Sylvia the reverse side, and this is what 
she saw : 

100-2-6 45- 1- 19 61-2-27 95-2-43 46-1-11 39-2-19 
30-1-51 58-2-40 77-2-9 8-1-4 10-2-8 61-2-27 111-1-12 

32-1-31- 

“Why,” exclaimed she, “it is nothing but figures. 
I don’t see any sense to it. Why should he send a lot 
of figures like this to Arthur? I don’t see the use of 
it.” 

“Nevertheless, those figures or numbers are of great 
use. Those numbers stand for words, or I am much 
mistaken. This is, without doubt, a cypher message, 
written, according to a code which the Major and his 
son have invented. The Major must be in extremity, 
his message must be very urgent, and the matter of it 
172 


THE CRYPTOGRAM 


173 


of vast importance, or he wouldn’t write in cypher, and 
go to such lengths to have his letter delivered. Now 
what thing is of most importance to your dear uncle at 
the present time?” 

Sylvia thought for a moment, and a frown of per- 
plexity wrinkled her fair brow. 

“The diamond, of course,” exclaimed she, after a 
moment. “How stupid of me not to have thought of 
it instantly!” 

“That being the case, this message, without doubt, 
has reference to the diamond. If we could read this 
letter, we would know where the diamond is.” 

“How provoking! It is positively tantalizing to 
know that this slip of paper contains the Information 
we want, and to be forced to sit with our hands folded, 
and simply stare at it. Oh, Rob ! Isn’t there any way 
in which we can read it?” 

“There may be a way. It depends altogether upon 
what sort of a cypher or cryptogram it is. Anyhow, 
I’m going to have a try at it. I used to take a great 
interest in cryptography, as they call it, and I spent a 
lot of time reading up on the subject. If this letter is 
written after any of the common systems, we will have 
its meaning, you may depend upon it.” 

“Oh, Rob !” exclaimed Sylvia, “you are a darling.” 

Robert tried to catch and draw her to him, to kiss 
her, but she sprang up and eluded him. 

“I didn’t mean it in that way,” said she, blushing. 

Rob now took the scrap of paper and looked at it 
for quite a while. 

“We will now,” said he, “try to find out what kind 
of a cypher this is. We will commence by using the 
process of elimination. The commonest system is that, 
in which the letters of the alphabet are represented by 
certain other letters, in regular advance. For instance, 


174 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


the letter A is represented by D, the letter B by E, and 
so on. As this cypher is composed of figures and not 
letters, we eliminate that system. There lis another 
kind of cypher which is composed by representing the 
different letters of the alphabet with arbitrary signs, 
such as figures, or punctuation marks. This is the 
cypher or cryptogram which Poe uses in his story of 
the Gold Bug. The man who found the cryptogram 
succeeded in reading it, by using the formula of the 
respective quantities of the letters in the printer’s or 
type founder’s case. He knew that the letter E ap- 
pears more frequently than any other letter in the Eng- 
lish language, and that the letter T comes next. The 
word ‘the’ is the commonest word in the language. 
The word ‘and’ follows the word ‘the’ in frequency. I 
think that we can also eliminate this form of cypher, 
for the reason that the numbers in the Major’s mes- 
sage evidently represent words, and not letters. There 
are only forty-two numbers in the message, and it is 
ridiculous to suppose that he could send an' important 
communication containing but forty-two letters.” 

Rob again inspected the paper carefully. 

“This cypher,” said he, at length, “has certain 
striking peculiarities. In the first place, all the num- 
bers are in groups of three. In the second place, the 
middle number of all the groups is either one or two. 
Sylvia dearest, if this cryptogram is what I think it is, 
we are up against a stone wall. We have come across 
one of the few kinds of cypher which it is impossible 
to read.” 

“Oh, how disappointing ! What do you think it is, 
then?” 

“I think that this is what is called a book cypher. I 
will explain it. Let us suppose that you and I wish to 
correspond by cypher. We procure two copies of a 


THE CRYPTOGRAM 


175 


certain book. You have one and I have one, and the 
two copies are exactly the same. To write you in 
cypher, I look in the book and find the word I want. 
To represent that word, I write down the number of the 
page upon which I find it and the consecutive number 
of the word upon the page. To read the cypher, you 
find the page in your own book, and count down the 
page, until you come to the word. It is easily seen that 
no outsider could, by any possibility, read that letter, 
without getting hold of that identical book, and he 
couldn’t do that, because he wouldn’t know what book 
it was.” 

“Are you sure it is that kind of a cypher, Rob ? It 
doesn’t seem to me likely, for the reason that the Major 
and his son never have anything to do with books. I 
never saw either one of them read a book, or have one 
in his hand.” 

“I thought that they were rather intelligent men.” 

“They are college graduates; but I haven’t much 
of an opinion of their intelligence. For one thing, I 
know that they are sadly deficient in their spelling.” 

“Really! That is funny.” 

“Yes, they both of them have to use dictionaries 
all the time. They carry those little typist’s spelling 
dictionaries in their pockets. I have often seen the 
Major and his son consulting them, when they were 
writing or reading letters.” 

“Sylvia!” cried Robert, jumping up and seizing 
both her hands, “you have solved the cryptogram. If 
you haven’t actually solved it, you have put me in the 
way of doing it.” 

He leaned forward to kiss her ; but he only suc- 
ceeded in kissing the tip of her ear. 

“What nonsense are you talking?” exclaimed she. 
“I have done absolutely nothing toward it, and it seems 


176 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


to me that we are no further advanced than we were 
in the first place.” 

“You solved the riddle, you angel girl, when you 
told me about the dictionaries. Don’t you see ? Those 
are the books in which they find the words. There’s 
another thing. I have just thought of it. The diction- 
aries account for the figures one and two, in the mid- 
dle of the groups of three numbers. The figures one 
and two stand for the first and second columns of the 
page. Those small pocket dictionaries usually have 
two columns to the page. That settles it. It’s as plain 
as day. Now, it only remains for us to get hold of 
one of those dictionaries, and the diamond is ours.” 

“And that would be impossible. You speak of it 
as if it were the easiest thing in the world.” 

“It will not be so difficult. When do you think 
that Arthur will come home?” 

“Sometime before dinner. He always comes home 
for dinner at six. Perhaps he will come earlier today. 
Very likely he was to meet Uncle somewhere. As he 
didn’t meet him where and when he expected to, he 
will come home, expecting to find him here.” 

“Very well. When Arthur comes, I will borrow 
his dictionary.” 

“What nonsense! Do you suppose for a minute 
that he will let you have it ?” 

“I know that he will. There are certain prepara- 
tions to make, however. In the first place, I want you 
to make me a black mask, such as burglars and high- 
waymen use. It must come down to my chin, have 
two holes for eyes, and two cords attached to the edges, 
so that I can tie them back of my head.” 

“What, in the name of goodness, do you want it 
for?” 

“So that Arthur won’t get a look at me, when I ask 


THE CRYPTOGRAM 


177 


him for the dictionary. You know that you were 
particular that the Dennisons should not see me face to 
face, and find out that I was not one of the four.’’ 

“Very well, I will make it for you; but I can’t see 
how it will help you to get the dictionary.” 

Sylvia now fetched her work basket, and a piece of 
black cloth, and proceeded to make the mask. When 
it was finished, they went down into the parlor, that 
they might look through the shutters, and watch for 
Arthur. 

Robert drew a small sofa up to the window, for 
Sylvia and himself. It was one of those sofas which 
are shaped like the letter S, and in which two people 
can sit facing each other. Sylvia gazed through the 
cracks of the shutter, and Rob gazed at Sylvia’s face. 

Sylvia’s arm and hand lay upon the arm of the 
sofa next him, and it seemed to him the most natural 
thing in the world to put his hand upon hers. Her 
hand was not so very, very small, but it was firm, 
well-shaped and of a delightful coolness. The touch 
of it made his heart beat faster. 

“I see,” ventured he, presently, “that you do not 
wear an engagement ring. I am glad of that, sweet- 
heart.” 

“I never wear any rings.” 

“Neither would I, if I were a girl, and had such 
hands.” 

“I don’t like to have you call me sweetheart. It 
reminds me of some one else who always uses that 
name for me.” 

“Do you mean to tell me that there is some other 
fellow who dares to call you that?” 

“I didn’t say so. Daddy always calls me sweet- 
heart.” 

“Daddy must be a very fine man.” 

12 


178 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


^'Of course he is; but what makes you think so?” 

''Otherwise he wouldn’t have such a daughter. 
What sort of a man is your father? Tell me about 
him.” 

"Father is the most honorable man in the world, 
and he is exceedingly good-natured. He is tall, as tall 
as you, but he is broader and stouter. He is always 
laughing.” 

"I am glad to hear that he is: good-natured.” 

"Why are you glad?” 

"It will make it so much better when I come to ask 
his consent.” 

"Consent to what?” 

"To our marriage, of course.” 

"I haven’t given you mine, yet. The girl is always 
supposed to have the first say.” 

"But you will give it, will you not, Dearest?” 

"Why, you haven’t ever really asked me.” 

"Then I will ask you now. Sylvia darling, will 
you marry me?” 

"I don’t know yet. In any case, you must wait 
until we find the diamond. As I said before, I would 
never marry a man unless I brought him something, 
especially if I loved him very much.” 

There was a look in Sylvia’s eyes which made him 
wish to clasp her in his arms. He started to do so, but 
she restrained him. 

"Stop !” she exclaimed. "Not now. A cab is com- 
ing to a stop at the door. I think it is Arthur. Yes, 
it is.” 


CHAPTER XI 
Borrowing the Dictionary 

Robert immediately adjusted the black mask, went 
into the hallway, and took his stand beside the door, 
so that when it was opened, he would be hidden behind 
it. Arthur Dennison now came into the vestibule, and 
closed the outside door. Then he unlocked the inside 
door, took the key from the lock, and entered the hall- 
way. As he was closing the door, Rob was upon him. 

Arthur was an athletic young man, and, though 
taken at a disadvantage, made a good fight. He struck 
viciously at the American several times, and tore his 
mask off ; but Rob slipped his right arm around the 
Englishman’s waist and seized his right wrist. Then, 
with his left hand, he pinioned his other wrist, and 
pressed it against his breast. Arthur struggled wildly 
but without avail. Rob bent his head and shoulders 
back, little by little, then, at the auspicious moment, 
tripped him, and the two came to the floor together. 
In falling, Arthur struck his head against the newel 
post, and he lay upon the rug unconscious. Just then, 
Sylvia, who had been watching the fray with a look of 
horror, rushed into the hallway. 

“Oh, Robert!” she cried, “you haven’t killed him, 
have you?” 

“No, no, Sylvia. He is a long way yet from it. 
You can’t kill that kind so easily. He had a slight tap 
on the head from the newel post. That’s all. Now, 
Sylvia girl, please bring me two of those silk cords or 
ropes which loop the curtains back in the parlor.” 

When Sylvia had brought the cords, Robert turned 

179 


i8o 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


Dennison over upon his stomach, brought his hands up 
behind his back, and tied them together, neatly and 
securely. When he had also fastened his ankles, he 
turned him over upon his back, and proceeded to search 
his clothing for the dictionary. He chose to look first 
in the right-hand inside pocket of his coat, and here he 
found it. 

‘‘Here is the dictionary,” announced he. “I told 
you, Sylvia, that I would have no trouble borrowing 

it.’’ 

“I would like to know what you really call trouble. 
It seems to me that you have no end of trouble. You 
have also nearly killed the man. He is certainly wicked 
enough, but I wouldn’t want him killed. Do you really 
think that he will recover.” 

“Certainly, it would be hard work to kill him with 
a club. My only fear is that he will come to more 
quickly than we want. The important question now 
is: where shall we stow him, until we get ready to 
leave? Isn’t there a large closet somewhere in the back 
of the house, some place where he can shout to his 
heart’s content, without rousing the neighborhood?” 

“There’s a closet in the passage which leads from 
the dining-room to the basement stairs.” 

“The very thing. You lead the way and I’ll bring 
along the captive.” 

Rob seized Arthur by the coat collar, and dragged 
him along the floor. Sylvia went ahead and opened 
the closet door. 

“I will go and get him a pillow,” said Sylvia. “It 
is pretty hard for him to lie upon the bare floor like 
that.” 

Sylvia procured a sofa pillow from the parlor, Rob 
pulled his victim into the closet, and propped him 
against the further wall, with the pillow under his 


BORROWING THE DICTIONARY i8i 


head. Sylvia now went into the dining-room, but 
Robert remained behind to assure himself that Dennison 
was not seriously hurt. Presently the young man 
opened his eyes, and stared for a long moment at the 
American. 

“Who are you, anyway?” he finally demanded. 
“When did you come into this business?” 

“I am the deus ex machina,” answered Robert. 

“No, you’re not. You’re the devil ex machina. 
I’ve got your number now. You’re the chap who was 
here yesterday and day before. Say, what did! you hit 
me with?” 

“I didn’t hit you. You tried to smash the newel 
post with your head.” 

“I remember now. I suppose you’ve got the dia- 
mond ?” 

“What diamond?” 

“Aw, don’t try to make out that I’m a fool. You 
and Sylvia were together all the time.” 

“Who is Sylvia?” 

“Say, don’t give me any of that tommy rot. I 
wasn’t born yesterday. How long you going to keep 
me here, anyway?” 

“Only a half hour or so. Just as soon as I possibly 
can, I will come and let you out.” 

“Much obliged, old chap. Don’t hurry yourself.” 

Saying this, Arthur turned over so that he faced 
the wall. Robert came out of the closet, closed and 
locked the door and rejoined Sylvia in the dining-room. 

“And now for the cryptogram,” said he. 

When they came into the hallway, they found the 
key of the front door lying upon the rug. Robert 
picked it up, and locked the door, leaving the key in 
the lock. 

As they raced up the stairway, Robert placed his 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


182 

arm around Sylvia’s waist, and accelerated her progress. 
When they were seated once more at the library desk, 
he gave her the dictionary. 

‘T will read the numbers,” said he, ‘‘and you will 
find the words, and write them down. The first word 
is on page 100, the sixth word from the top, in the 
second column.” 

Sylvia found the page and counted from the top 
downward. 

“The word is ‘they,’ ” announced she. 

“The second is on page 45, the nineteenth word in 
the first column.” 

“The word is ‘have’ said she, presently. 

“Next is page 61, twenty-seventh word, second 
column.” 

“Me,” announced Sylvia. 

“They have me,” repeated Rob. “That’s plain 
enough. Mathews, Peterson, Colby and Saunders 
captured the old man, and locked him up. Now for 
the rest of it.” 

The next five words, according to Sylvia’s count, 
were “Stole hidden front door lock.” 

“What sense is there in that?” asked she, plain- 
tively. “What do we care about anyone’s stealing a 
front door lock? Why should he write such a thing 
to Arthur?” 

“It does seem nonsensical, doesn’t it? Perhaps, 
though, we have made a mistake. Turn to page 95 
again, and count the words once more. Second col- 
umn, forty- third word.” 

Sylvia found the page again, and made a recount. 

“How stupid of me!” she exclaimed. I got the 
forty-second word. The right word is ‘stone.’ Still, 
I don’t see as that helps us much.” 

“You don’t? Sylvia dearest, your wits have gone 


BORROWING THE DICTIONARY 183 

a wool gathering. ‘Stone hidden front door lock.’ 
‘Stone’ of course means the diamond. The old man 
took the front door lock out of the door, opened the 
lock, put the diamond into it, and replaced the lock in 
the door. If that diamond is three-quarters of an inch 
wide, it must be fully three-quarters of an inch deep, 
from table to collet, and a lock would have to be a 
pretty thick one, in order to accommodate an article of 
this size. You couldn’t get the diamond into any of 
these small, ordinary, indoor locks. That is certainly 
a most excellent hiding-place. Who would think of 
looking for a diamond inside of a front door lock. 
Then, again, the door is always locked; so that no one 
could get at the lock if he wanted to. Furthermore, 
the lock is never in sight ; therefore the idea of its con- 
taining the diamond would never be suggested. But 
let us get on with the rest of the message. The next 
word is the ninth in the second column, page 77.” 

After Sylvia had hunted up the remaining six 
words, they were found to read as follows : “Procure 
and await me White Elephant.” “White Elephant,” 
said Robert, “means, undoubtedly, some restaurant or 
hotel. I think that I have heard' the name before. 
Anyway, Arthur will be saved the trouble of going 
there. Our next affair is to get that lock out of the 
front door, and open it. Sylvia darling, can you find 
me a screwdriver?” 

“There is one in the dining-room sideboard. I will 
get it at once.” 

They both trooped down-stairs, and Sylvia presently 
brought the screw-driver, and stood over; Robert, with 
wide opened eyes and bated breath, while he removed 
the lock from the door. When he had pried it out of 
the mortise he unscrewed a small screw from the side 
plate and lifted the plate. At the bottom of the lock. 


184 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


under the shank of the bolt, there was a space an inch 
and a half long by three quarters of an inch deep. In 
this space or cavity lay the oval diamond. 

‘‘Oh, oh, oh,” exclaimed Sylvia, clapping her hands. 

Rob picked the diamond out, and looked at it. He 
had been prepared for something magnificent, but the 
stone exceeded everything he had imagined in his wild- 
est dreams. It had been cleaned of the shellac with 
which it had been coated, and now shone forth with 
a dazzling brilliance which was beyond compare. It 
fairly emitted sparks and flames, it hurt the eyes to 
gaze at it. 

“I can see now,” said he, ^%hy kingdoms have gone 
to war over the possession of such gems as these. In 
India alone thousands have been brought to death by 
their baneful influence. The story of all the great 
historic diamonds is replete with robbery, murder and 
sudden death. Some of them have left a trail of blood 
which reached across the continents. Somehow, Sylvia, 
I hate to give it to you. I am afraid that it will ex- 
pose you to danger. What is this mere sparkling stone 
compared to your happiness and well being?” 

“Pshaw!” exclaimed Sylvia, “there is nothing to 
be afraid of. Pm not afraid and Til take the risk. 
Nevertheless I don’t want you to give it to me. I want 
you to keep it until we can deliver it to Father. I made 
a poor enough mess of it when you gave it to me the 
last time.” 

“Very well, Sylvia. I will keep it. I think myself 
that it is the better way. The rascals who are after it 
will have me to deal with instead of you. By the by, 
you were to tell me, when we found the diamond, 
whether you would marry me.” 

“Wait a while longer, Robert. Wait until we have 
given the stone to Father.” * 


BORROWING THE DICTIONARY 185 


“Why will you not tell me now? What is your 
reason?” 

“You must never ask a woman for reasons. Per- 
haps I don’t want to accept you now because then you 
would stop asking me. Of course, I don’t say that 
this is the reason.” 

“Sylvia darling, I must have some satisfaction out 
of you. Just give me some slight indication of what 
your answer will be.” 

“Very well, I will say this. I don’t see how any 
girl who has known you as I do could help falling in 
love with you. As for myself, I own up that I like you 
better than any other man I have ever seen.” 

“I don’t like that at all. I’m not at all satisfied. 
To get even with you for putting me off in this man- 
ner, I am going to strike at your father. I am going 
to rob him of a jewel of priceless and inestimable 
value.” 

“Do you mean to say that you will keep the diamond 
for yourself?” 

“Bother the diamond. I was thinking of you.” 

Saying this, Robert took Sylvia’s hand, and drew 
her to him, but she snatched her hand away, and fled 
laughing up the stairs. Half way up she turned 
about. 

“I am going to pack,” said she, “and you can wait 
for me in the library. I will be ready in ten minutes. 
I hate to stay in this house a moment longer than is 
necessary.” 

Rob now put the lock together, replaced it in the 
door, and locked the door, leaving the key in the lock. 
Then he went up into the library to wait for Sylvia. 
He took the diamond from his pocket, and again exam- 
ined it. There was a fascination about the thing which 
he could not resist. ^ 


i86 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


Presently Sylvia came from her room and stood in 
the library door. 

“There are some of my things down-stairs,” said 
she. “They are in the room back of the parlor. It 
will take me a few minutes to gather them up. Wait 
for me here.” 

With that she tripped down-stairs. 

Five minutes passed. He was standing by the desk, 
and facing the front of the room. Against the wall 
opposite him, there was a cabinet which contained a 
mirror. Suddenly he heard the sound of footsteps 
upon the stair. He looked up, and the mirror showed 
him four men coming up the stairway. He knew them 
instantly, though he had never before seen them. They 
were Mathews, Peterson, Colby and Saunders. 


CHAPTER XII 
Value of the Morse Code 

Robert reached over to the desk, and dropped the 
diamond into the inkstand. Then he turned about and 
faced the door. The four men filed into the room, as 
if they knew that he was there. 

The one in advance, whom Rob later came to know 
as Colby, seemed to be the leader of the party. He was 
a tall, muscular Englishman, with a smooth face, a 
square, determined-looking jaw and a cold gray eye. 
Robert appraised the other three, and named them in- 
tuitively. The sandy-haired, raw-boned Scotchman 
must be Saunders, the flaxon-bearded Swede should be 
Peterson and the last, a black-bearded, bushy-eye- 
browed ruffian, was, of necessity, Mathews. 

Colby, as he advanced, leveled a pistol at Robert. 

“Hands up!” he commanded. 

Rob smilingly obeyed the order. 

“Who is the lad, anyway?” asked Saunders. 

“He’s the chap that sparks the girl when old man 
Dennison and his son are away,” answered Mathews. 
“He comes over the wall from somewhere. They were 
chasing him all over the lot, day before yesterday.” 

“Say, young man,” demanded Colby, “where is the 
girl, anyway?” 

“Gone out,” answered Rob. “I let her out of the 
front door ten minutes ago.” 

“You may have done so, as we found the key in 
the lock when we came up-stairs. The chances are, 
though, that you lie. Now recollect just this. If I 
find it necessary, if you obstruct our business, I will 

187 


i88 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


kill you, just as I would kill a fly that bothered me. 
Do you get that?” 

“I get it,” answered Rob. 

‘‘Where is the diamond?” 

“Search me.” 

“We propose to search you. Don’t worry about 
that. The job will be done thoroughly and neatly. 
Boys, go to it, and don’t overlook anything.” 

“Better take the lad into one of the back rooms,” 
suggested Saunders. “We may have to use some braw 
methods with him, and he may make a deil of a noise.” 

“That’s right,” assented Colby. “You go ahead, 
Saunders, and pick out the room. Now, young man, 
keep your hands up, and follow Saunders. Don’t try 
to make a break, either, or this gun may go off.” 

The procession started at once, with Saunders in 
the lead. Next came Rob, with his hands extended 
ceilingward. Colby came closely behind Rob, and 
prodded him in the small of the back, now and then, 
with his pistol. Mathews and Peterson brought up 
the rear. 

On his way along the passage, Robert thought 
about Sylvia. He was worried about her, and if the 
truth was known, never once took his own condition 
into consideration. He wondered whether she had 
heard or seen the men, as they came through the lower 
part of the house, and whether she would have the 
presence of mind to leave the house by the front door, 
and get the police or some other aid. 

As a matter of fact, Sylvia had heard the four men 
come up from the basement, and, from her vantage 
point, in the doorway which led from the parlor to the 
room back of the parlor, had seen them go up the 
stairway to the second story. She had then gone 
through the parlor to the doorway leading to the hall. 


VALUE OF THE MORSE CODE 189 

and had listened to the talk in the library. Her very 
first thought had been to escape from the house and 
get help. When, however, she came to the front door, 
she found that the key had been taken from the lock. 

The room into which the four men took Robert was 
Sylvia’s. He was fearful that she had left evidences 
of her presence in the house, and of her intended de- 
parture therefrom. He gazed anxiously about the 
room, but could see nothing which would indicate 
either. There was no single article of feminine ap- 
parel there; neither was there any sign of suit case or 
bags. He concluded that she had taken her luggage 
down-stairs and he blessed her for it. 

Robert stood in the center of the room, with his 
arms upraised. Colby, holding the pistol, stood in 
front of him. The other three men were scattered 
about the room. With the quickness of lightning, Rob 
brought his fist down upon Colby’s pistol wrist. It 
was a paralyzing blow, and the pistol fell to the floor. 
As Rob sprang for the doorway, Mathews rushed at 
him, but was sent to the floor, in the far side of the 
room, by a smashing blow in the face. Peterson came 
next, and received a kick in the stomach, which doubled 
him up as a jackknife is doubled. Saunders got in the 
doorway just in time to intercept Rob, and' went down 
by the force of the impact. He managed, however, to 
grasp Robert’s legs, and was dragged out into the pas- 
sage, and half way to the stairs. By this time, Colby, 
Peterson and Mathews had recovered themselves, and 
had come to Saunders’ assistance. Rob, now seeing 
that further resistance was worse than useless, sur- 
rendered gracefully, and allowed himself to be led back 
into Sylvia’s room. He was cool and smiling as he 
gazed at his adversaries. 

Peterson was enraged far more than the others. 


190 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


He picked up the pistol from the floor and leveled it 
at Robert. Colby knocked his hand up. 

“What are you going to do?” asked Colby. 

“Fm going, to kill the blasted whelp,” he roared. 

“No, you’re not. Fair play is a jewel, and I mean 
to have it. That chap is a wonder. He’s got the 
nerve, and he can sure fight some. He had us all 
whipped for a minute. Ho, ho! It was some sport. 
’Twas as good as a play.” 

“That’s so,” said Mathews. 

“He’s a muckle guid scrapper,” added Saunders. 

At the same time, Mathews was nursing a bruised 
eye, and Saunders a bloody nose. 

“Now,” said Colby, “strip his clothing off, and 
search him. Be quick about it too, as we| haven’t any 
time to lose. We must go through the whole house by 
eight o’clock.” 

Mathews and Saunders approached Rob and laid 
hands upon him. He shook them off. 

“Don’t touch me,” exclaimed he. “I’ll do it my- 
self.” 

Saying this, he proceeded to divest himself of his 
clothing, and, presently stood before them attired solely 
in his underclothing and stockings. The two men 
then went at him and prodded every part of his anatomy. 
They then took his clothing and went over it inch by 
inch. They even drilled holes in his shoe heels, in 
search for hidden cavities. 

“He didn’t have it about him, that’s sure,” said 
Mathews. 

“What will we do with the lad, now?” asked 
Saunders. 

“Tie him up and fasten him to a chair,” answered 
Colby. “Then we’ll lock him in here while we search 
the rest of the house. No matter how much noise he 


VALUE OF THE MORSE CODE 


191 

makes, no one will hear him. I think it better to 
commence in the attic first, and work downward. 
Young man, you can put on your clothing, now.” 

“Robert proceeded to dress himself leisurely. When 
he was completely clothed, he stepped to the dressing 
bureau, to fix his collar and tie, and to brush his hair. 
His face showed no evidence of the late encounter. 

“Where does he think he’s goin’ ?” asked Mathews. 
“Say, young fellow, you ain’t goin’ into no social func- 
tion for quite a while yet.” 

Robert didn’t really care about his personal ap- 
pearance. What he did care for was Sylvia’s button- 
hook, which he had perceived lying upon the dressing 
bureau. He had a sudden idea of a certain use to 
which he might put it. Watching his chance, he shoved 
it up inside his cuff, and held it there with the tips of 
his fingers. He now seated himself in the chair which 
Colby indicated, at the same time letting the buttonhook 
fall upon the seat of the chair, between his legs, and 
bringing his legs together so as to hide it. 

The back of the chair upon which he sat had three 
uprights. Mathews and Saunders now brought his 
hands back, and through the two spaces, between the 
uprights, and tied them securely together, behind the 
middle upright, with two handkerchiefs which they had 
knotted together. Mathews then took off a belt which 
he wore around his waist, bound Rob’s ankles together, 
and at the same time made them fast to the chair rung. 

At that moment there came a sound of curses, 
shouts and yells from the region below stairs. It was 
somewhat muffied and subdued, as if it came from a 
dungeon or some underground chamber. 

The four men stood at attention and listened in- 
tently. 

“What in the fiend’s name is that ?” demanded Colby. 


192 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


“Someone seems to be in trouble down there,” re- 
turned Mathews. 

“Mathews, you and Peterson go down and find out 
who and what it is,” commanded Colby. 

The two men went out of the room, and rushed 
down-stairs. In five minutes they returned. 

“It’s young Dennison,” announced Mathews. “We 
found him in a closet which opens from that passage 
back of the dining-room. He was trussed up like a 
fowl, bound hand and foot. Whoever did it made a 
good job of it. He swore something awful when we 
opened the door.” 

“You didn’t let him loose, did you?” asked Colby. 

“Not I. I locked the door on him again. I 
thought he was just about right as he was. I s’pose 
this here chap could tell us who did it if he wanted to. 
Much obliged, young feller, for savin’ us the trouble 
of doin’ it ourselves.” 

“That disposes of that cub of an Arthur, anyway,” 
remarked Colby. “I was sort of anxious about him. 
I couldn't place him, and I was afraid he’d turn up at 
the wrong moment. The next thing is to find the 
girl.” 

“We haven’t time to go looking for her,” objected 
Mathews. “Besides, while we’re searching the house, 
we’ll come across her anyway. Come on, we’ll com- 
mence in the attic. She may be hiding up there, for 
all we know.” 

“All right,” assented Colby, “we’ll divide the attic 
into four parts, and go through it with a fine tooth 
comb, lock the doors here, and come along.” 

Colby and Saunders went out of the passage door, 
locked it, and took away the key. Mathews and 
Peterson went through the bedroom door into the 
library, and fastened the door after them. 


VALUE OF THE MORSE CODE 


193 


When Robert heard their steps upon the attic floor 
above him, he turned his gaze toward a steam pipe, in 
the corner of the room, which went from floor to ceil- 
ing. The Dennison house had, at a recent date, been 
fitted up for steam heating, and, as in all old houses, 
the steam pipes, instead of running up through the 
partition, stood in plain view beside the walls. 

Rob now raised himself an inch or so from the seat 
of the chair, and tipped the chair backward with his 
feet. The buttonhook at once slid across the chair 
seat, and fell into his hands. He then began to edge 
his chair across the floor toward the steam pipe, by 
moving his feet and jerking his body sideways. His 
progress was slow, as he moved only about three inches 
with each effort. However, in about ten minutes, he 
had got the back of his chair against the pipe. He 
then commenced to tap the Morse Code upon the pipe 
with Sylvia’s button hook. This is what he tapped : 

“S. D. S. D. C. Q. D. S. O. S. S. O. S. S. D. 
S. D. S. D.” 

He listened awhile ; but there was no answer. Then 
he gave the taps again. Still no answer. He had 
given the message for the third time, and was beginning 
to lose hope, when he heard a faint clink upon the pipe 
from the lower regions. He listened intently and read 
the following: 

^‘R. L. R. L. R. L. R. L. O.K. Go ahead. 
S. D.” 

He rapidly tapped off the following: 

“Locked in your room. Stone in ink well library. 
Get it and leave house front door. Get police. Don’t 
mind me. Can take care self. Men in attic. Hurry. 
You have only five minutes. I send love. R. L.” 


13 


CHAPTER XIII 
It Was the Cat 

Sylvia came out into the hallway, and tiptoed softly 
up the stairs. First she went into the library and tried 
the door of her bedroom. It was locked and the key 
was gone. Then she went into the passage and tried 
the other door. Finding it also locked, she knelt and 
looked through the keyhole. Robert was nowhere 
within the range of her vision. 

“Robert,” she called out softly, “are you there?” 

“I certainly am,” answered Rob, in the same tone 
of voice. 

“Come over to the door so that I can whisper to 
you.” 

“Can’t do it, Sylvia dearest. I’m a fixture in this 
particular spot.” 

“Oh, Rob,” asked the girl, fearfully, “have they 
hurt you?” 

“Mot at all. It’s the other way about. I put my 
mark on two or three of them. The fact is, however, 
that they’ve gone on the principle of Tast bind, fast 
find,’ and they’ve trussed me up as I did Arthur. But 
hurry! There’s no time to lose. They may come 
down out of the attic at any moment. Get the dia- 
mond at once, go out of the front door, and summon 
the police.” 

“I can’t, Rob. They’ve taken the key from the 
front door.” 

“Then go down into the basement and sandbag old 
Sarah. She’s probably asleep now, anyway, and you 
can get the key from her easily. On second thought, 

194 


IT WAS THE CAT 


195 


when you are once out of the house, don’t bother about 
the police. Take a cab, and go to your Aunt’s house, 
in Maida Vale. I can take care of myself. When I 
am good and ready, I am going to get out of here. I 
don’t know how just yet ; but that’s a mere detail. Bye 
the bye, I don’t know the number of your Aunt’s house. 
What is it?” 

“A hundred and thirty-seven, Rob. You are much 
mistaken, though, if you think I will go away and leave 
you like this. I’m not going to my Aunt’s until you 
are at liberty.” 

“Good girl! Really though, I won’t need you. 
Now hurry and get the diamond.” 

“Oh, Robert, I can’t leave you like this. It seems 
mean and contemptible. Bother the diamond. I 
would rather stay and get you out some way. You 
would never leave me if I were in such a fix.” 

“That is altogether a different matter. I am a man 
and you are a woman. Besides, I am not really so 
uncomfortably situated. I can occupy myself very 
pleasantly.” 

“How will you occupy yourself?” 

“By thinking of you, of course. Now be a good 
girl, and go away at once. Get the diamond and drive 
to your Aunt’s house. I will be there tonight, without 
fail.” 

“All right, Rob. I’m going now. I’ll blow a kiss 
through the keyhole.” 

After Sylvia had blown three audible kisses through 
the keyhole, she went along the passage into the library. 
There was a large, square inkstand, filled almost to the 
top with ink, upon the desk. It had the appearance of 
all inkstands, and was the last receptacle in which one 
might expect to find a gem worth fifty thousand pounds. 
Sylvia lifted it and poured the ink under the desk, upon 


196 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


a valuable rug. Then she took her handkerchief, so 
as not to soil her fingers, and picked up the diamond, 
and thrust it, handkerchief and all, into the bosom of 
her waist. 

She now descended the stairway, passed through 
the dining-room and the passage, and tiptoed down the 
basement stairs into the basement. Here was a narrow 
hall which ran the length of the house. Opening from 
this hall or passage, in the front, was the kitchen ; next 
came the laundry, and finally the cellar. A sound, 
which resembled nothing so much as the sawing of 
wood, came from the kitchen. Sarah was, without 
doubt, taking her afternoon siesta. Sylvia stole along 
the passage, and looked through the kitchen door. The 
old woman sat in a rocking chair by the window, fast 
asleep and snoring. Upon a table, by her side, stood 
a square black bottle ; also a teapot and a cup and saucer. 
Sarah, evidently, like her namesake, Mrs. Gamp, took 
her gin with tea. 

Sylvia could see a bunch of keys hanging at the old 
woman’s girdle. There could be no chance more 
favorable for her undertaking. Just then she heard 
the sound of footsteps in the upper regions of the house. 

“They are coming down from the attic,” thought 
she. “I do hope they will stop for a time in the second 
story.” 

Presently, however, it seemed as if someone were 
coming dowfi the stairway from the second to the first 
floor. Then she heard steps cross the dining-room 
toward the passage, and she fled lightly along the cor- 
ridor and hid herself in the cellar. Next came steps 
upon the basement stairs, and she looked out from her 
place of concealment, and saw Colby. 

He went into the kitchen, and shook the old woman 
roughly. 


IT WAS THE CAT 


197 


“Here/’ he commanded. “Get up ! I want you.” 

“Car’nt ’e let me alone?” whined the hag. “I was 
tykin’ a bit o’ a nap. Lemme alone will ’e?” 

“I’ll bash in your head, you old sot,” threatened 
Colby. “Get up and stir yourself. We didn’t give 
you two quid for nothing. Where’s the girl?” 

“’Ow do I know where she be? She beant down 
’ere, that’s sartain. She never do come down ’ere. I 
aint seen ’er since noon time, s’elp me.” 

Colby jerked her roughly to her feet. 

“Stop your whining, and find her,” he commanded. 
“She’s either in the basement or the first story. We’ll 
look here first.” 

Sylvia was sorely frightened. If they found her, 
she would be searched. The idea of being searched by 
Colby was repulsive to her in the highest degree. She 
also was stoutly resolved not to lose the diamond. In 
the cellar there was a table, a refrigerator, some hang- 
ing shelves, a meat safe and a number of other cumber- 
some and bulky articles of cellar furniture. Upon the 
table stood four quart bottles of milk which seemed as 
if they had been recently delivered. A sudden idea 
came to Sylvia. She took one of the bottles, pressed 
open the cardboard cap, dropped the diamond into the 
milk, and replaced the cap. Then she took a pencil 
which was lying upon the table, and marked a cross 
upon the cap of that particular bottle. Just then, the 
basement door bell rang. 

“What’s that?” demanded Colby, who had come 
out into the passage. 

“’Ow can I tell?” answered the old woman, fret- 
fully. “Will I hopen up, and see?” 

“No, let ’em ring.” 

The bell was rung again, furiously. Colby waited 
impatiently for the person to go away. The bell, how- 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


198 

ever, still kept on ringing, and the person, whoever it 
was, seemed determined to get in. After five minutes 
of. ineffectual waiting, Colby changed his mind. 

“Open the door,” he commanded. “See who it is 
and get rid of them as soon as possible.” 

Old Sarah took the bunch of keys from her girdle, 
inserted one in the lock, and opened the door. A long, 
lanky, country youth, in corduroys with many buttons, 
stepped into the passage. 

“Hit’s the milkman,” announced the old woman. 
“Whatever be you a doin’ ’ere again?” asked she of 
the youth. 

“I want them ’ere three bottles o’ milk wot I left 
’ere this arternoon by mistyke. I ’ad it down in me 
book one bottle, and the bloomin’ one looks like a four, 
and I fetched in four. W’en I finds it hout, “ere’s a 
rum go,’ says I. “Owever ham I to serve me other 
trade?’ says 1. T’ll ’ave to fetch ’em awy again,’ says 
I, and ’ere I be.” 

“Never mind the three bottles,” interposed Colby, 
“we can use them, and you can leave the four. Now 
get out quick, as I’m busy.” 

“Carn’t do it, Guvnor,” anwered the lout. “I aint 
got enough. I carn’t serve me trade.” 

“Then take them and be hanged. Only get out of 
here quick.” 

The youth went into the cellar, carrying a wire 
bottle-holder, Colby followed him as far as the cellar 
door, and Sylvia hid herself behind the refrigerator. 
The milkman picked up three of the bottles, put them 
into his holder, passed along the passage, and left the 
house. Colby, after a glance about the cellar, went 
into the laundry. Presently, he came back into the 
cellar, as if he was not satisfied with his former cursory 
inspection. Just then a black and white cat, who was 


IT WAS THE CAT 


199 


a member of the Dennison household, and of whom 
Sylvia had made a staunch friend, by giving him num- 
erous tidbits, and by stroking him upon frequent occa- 
sions, came from nowhere in particular, sidled around 
the corner of the refrigerator, rubbed himself against 
Sylvia’s ankles, and miaowed in friendly manner. 
Sylvia, fearful that the cat would attract Colby’s atten- 
tion to her hiding-place, pushed him away, and the cat, 
astonished at such unkind reception, jumped upon the 
top of the refrigerator, and from there leaped upon a 
swinging shelf, which was filled with glass bottles and 
jars. Colby had gonei to one corner of the cellar, and 
was peering behind a pile of empty wine cases. At the 
noise made by the cat among the glassware, he turned 
and ran over to the shelf to find the cause of it. This 
frightened the cat, which plunged about among the bot- 
tles and jars, overturning them, and raising no end 
of a racket. Sylvia took instant advantage of this 
timely diversion, passed out from behind the refrig- 
erator, glided along the wall, and took refuge behind 
the pile of wine cases. Colby, finally, having completed 
his inspection of the cellar, by looking behind the 
refrigerator, returned again to the laundry, and from 
the laundry, passed into the kitchen. There he found 
old Sarah again sunk into her chair, and just going 
into a doze. After prodding her several times with 
his boot, and shaking her, without apparent efifect, he 
swore an oath, left the kitchen, and went up-stairs. 

Sylvia waited until she heard him crossing the 
dining-room, then she sprang to the table, and examined 
the cap of the remaining milk bottle. It was not 
marked with a cross. She was almost in despair. 
Twice she and Robert had found the diamond, and 
twice they had lost it. Her one idea now was to over- 
take the milkman, and recover the marked bottle. She 


200 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


stole to the kitchen door, and looked in. The old 
woman was already sunk in slumber, and was again 
snoring. Sylvia looked for the keys at her girdle, but 
they were not there. Then she went to the outside 
door, and made the joyful discovery that Sarah had 
left the key in the lock, with the bunch of other keys 
hanging to it, when she had let the young man out. 

She unlocked the door, and went out into the area, 
under the stoop. Then she locked the door, and took 
the keys with her. As she came up out of the area, 
upon the sidewalk, she glanced up at the front of the 
house, and was startled to find that Colby was gazing 
at her through the half opened blinds of the parlor 
window. 


CHAPTER XIV 
Milk Bottles 

The time passed slowly with Robert. His position 
was by no means a comfortable one, and his thoughts 
were as unpleasant as his position. He was wondering 
whether Sylvia had secured the diamond, and whether 
she had been able to make her escape from the house. 
He could hear the four men turning things topsy- 
turvy in the attic, and he was fearful that they might 
come down before she got away. Presently they did 
in fact come trooping down the attic stairs. One of 
them continued on down to the first story, and the 
other three commenced a search of the library. In 
about ten minutes, Colby came to the front of the 
stairs and shouted up to his confederates. 

“The girl has got away,” he cried, “the! game’s up. 
She’ll have the police here in five minutes. We must 
drop it, and get out of here.” 

Rob heard the three men who were in the library 
running down the stairs. Then he heard the front door 
open and close, and after that all was still. 

“Now,” said Robert to himself, “it is about time 
for me to get out of here. Where there’s a will, 
there’s always a way. I’ve certainly got the will, and 
now for the way.” 

He cast his glances about the room, and took each 
and every detail into consideration. A pair of scissors, 
lying upon the dressing bureau, finally attracted his 
undivided attention. 

“If I could work my chair up to the end of the 
bureau,” thought he, “I might, possibly, crane my 

201 


202 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


neck over sideways, and get hold of the scissors with 
my teeth. Then I could drop them upon the chair seat, 
between my knees, raise myself, tilt the chair backward, 
and slide them into my hands. I think that I could 
hold them, points upward, work them with my fingers, 
and cut the handkerchiefs. Anyway, it’s worth trying. 
Getting out of the room, after I am loose, should be 
easy. For one thing, I could tie two sheets together, 
and let myself down to the ground, out of the window.” 

Leaving Robert to his plans for escape, the narra- 
tive will now go back to Sylvia, who, at last accounts, 
had got out of the house, and had found Colby watch- 
ing her from the parlor window. She now looked up 
the street, and saw a milk wagon standing in front of 
a house, which was two hundred yards away. She 
decided at once that it was the one she sought, and she 
started toward it, half running, half walking. Before 
she could reach it, however, the milkman came out of 
the house, jumped on the wagon, and the wagon clat- 
tered away. She had a good view of the man, as he 
crossed the walk, and she recognized him at once as 
the youth who had taken away her diamond. 

Sylvia now chanced to look back toward the Den- 
nison house, and she was astonished to see the four 
men, Mathews, Peterson, Colby and Saunders, make 
their exit from the upper front door. Two of them 
came toward her, and the other two went in the oppo- 
site direction. She made up her mind at once that 
they were in pursuit of her, and that they had divided 
forces, in order to make her capture more certain. 
Now that she was in the open street, though, where a 
number of pedestrians and vehicles were passing to 
and fro, she felt no fear of them. 

The milk wagon now turned a corner, and passed 
into a side street. When she had come, herself, to the 


MILK BOTTLES 


203 


corner, it was standing in front of a house, about half 
way down the block. She ran toward it swiftly; but 
it was only a repetition of her former attempt. When 
she arrived within a hundred feet of her goal, the 
wagon again clattered away. It now turned into 
another street, and this time she was more fortunate. 
It stopped a short way down the block, in front of a 
small, dingy cobbler’s shop, and Sylvia met the milk- 
man as he was coming from the building. She pro- 
ceeded to her business, without useless preliminaries. 

‘T want,” said she, “the three bottles of milk which 
you just took away from the Dennison house. I will 
pay you well for them.” 

“’Ow much be they worth to ’e, missus?” asked the 
youth, with a cunning leer. 

“Lll give you half a crown, beside the price.” 

“Arf a crown aint so much. Sye a crown, Lydy, 
and they be yours.” 

Sylvia produced two half crowns, and handed them 
to him. The milkman reached into his wagon, and 
brought forth three bottles of milk. Sylvia looked 
them over, but could not find the cross mark. The 
bottles, too, seemed to be of a different shape. 

“These are not the ones I want,” said she. “You 
know very well the ones I mean.” 

“But these be just as good. Missus. They’s the 
same milk, and the same milkin’. S’elp me bob!” 

“That makes no difference. I want those three 
bottles and none others. Have you them or not?” 

“No, I ’aven’t got ’em, Lydy. I tykes one to 
Missus Abby in Salton Street, one to the Smitherses in 
Sudbury Street, and the other I gives to old man Ped- 
low, the shoemaker, wot lives ’ere. You see. Missus, 
I wanted to get rid o’ ’em, bein’ afeared they’d spile 
on me ’ands.” 


204 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


The youth looked longingly at the two half crowns 
which he still held in his hand. 

‘‘Give me the names and the street numbers of 
these three people,” said she, “and you can keep the 
money.” 

He joyfully complied with her request. When she 
had written down the addresses, she left him, and re- 
traced her steps toward the Dennison house. At the 
corner she turned and looked back. He was still stand- 
ing where she had left him, scratching his poll and at- 
tentively gazing after her, and inspecting the two half 
crowns. 

“He is wondering,” thought she, “why I should 
want to give him five shillings for three quarts of half 
sour milk, when I could buy the same quantity of fresh 
milk for a shilling.” 

At the very moment she made this reflection, she 
saw Peterson and Saunders come around the further 
corner of the block. When they had reached the lad, 
they stopped and talked with him. 

“Those men have seen me chasing the milk wagon,” 
thought she, “and they are going to find the why and 
wherefore of it. When the boy tells them how anxious 
I was to buy the three bottles, they will put two and 
two together, and come pretty near the truth. Oh, 
dear! Pm afraid the diamond is lost forever. And 
now, to get Robert out of that room. That’s more 
important than a thousand diamonds. I wouldn’t lose 
him for all the diamonds in the world.” 

Sylvia arrived at the Dennison house, without 
seeing anything more of Mathews, Peterson, Colby or 
Saunders. It seemed to her that she had now nothing 
more to fear from them, and therefore that it would 
be unnecessary and a waste of time to go for the police. 

When she had let herself into the basement door, 


MILK BOTTLES 


205 


she looked around for old Sarah, but the woman was 
nowhere to be seen. When she had mounted to the 
second story, and was coming through the passage, 
which led to the dining-room, she found that someone 
had opened the door of the closet, and had set Arthur 
Dennison at liberty. 

She now went up to the second story, and, kneeling 
before the door which led from the hallway to her 
room, peered through the keyhole. She could see noth- 
ing of Robert. 

“Rob!” she called in a soft voice. 

There was no answer. 

“Robert !” she called again, in a louder tone. “Are 
you there? Can you hear me?” 

Again there was no response. She began to be 
frightened. Perhaps he was dead, or had fainted. 
She arose, and flew into the library, to try the other 
door. As she entered the library, she found herself 
face to face with Arthur Dennison, who was sitting 
at the desk, with his father’s cypher message and the 
dictionary before him. 

“So his name is Rob?” said Arthur, sneeringly. 
“I sized it up that the fellow was a pal of yours; but 
Dad wouldn’t have it so. He was playing hobby horse 
in your room a while ago. Sort of hunching his chair 
along the floor. I took a look at him through the key- 
hole, but I could only see his back. For the last ten 
minutes he hasn’t made a sound. I sure owe Colby 
and his gang a good turn for what they did to your 
Rob. Now, my dear, little cousin, come and sit down. 
I want to have a talk with you.” 

Sylvia paid no attention to the invitation, and re- 
mained standing. 

“How did you get out?” asked she. 

“Oh, so you were mixed up in that affair, too? I 


206 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


might have known it. Old Sarah let me out. I gave 
the dear old soul a quid for doing it. It will keep 
her in gin for a month.” 

“She didn’t need it. She already had money 
enough to keep her in gin for two months. Colby and 
the rest gave her two quids, as you call it, to let them 
in the house.” 

“Is that so? I’ll kill the old hag for that.” 

“I believe you. An old woman is just about your 
measure. Why don’t you take someone of your own 
sex and size. I dare you to open that door, and let the 
man free whom you will find there.” 

“Wouldn’t I be the bally fool to do anything of 
the kind? I’ve got you and your Rob where I want 
you. I’ve got the cards, and I mean to play ’em. I 
see that you and Rob have worked out Dad’s puzzle. 
Here is where you wrote down the words yourself. 
You see, sweetheart, I know those up and down strokes 
of yours. Of course, when you found that the stone 
was in the front door lock, you went straightway and 
got it out. Now, Sylvia dearest, I know that you have 
the stone, or that you know where it is. You had your 
things all packed to go. I found your bags down- 
stairs, and took the liberty of looking through them. 
The stone isn’t there; but you know where it is. Pro- 
duce it, and we will go halves. Better still, marry me, 
and you will have the whole thing.” 

“Cad!” exclaimed Sylvia, with a look of disdain. 
“I wouldn’t marry you for a thousand such diamonds. 
To set your mind at rest, however, I will say that I 
haven’t the stone.” 

“But you surely know where it is. Colby and his 
gang didn’t get it, that’s plain. They didn’t come for 
an hour after I was locked up. Furthermore, I know 
that they left without it. They left in a hurry and in 


MILK BOTTLES 


207 


a panic. I heard Colby shouting that you had escaped, 
and that the game was up. Come now, Sylvia sweet- 
heart, tell me where it is.” 

“I don’t know where it is, and I wouldn’t tell you 
if I did. It belongs to Father. You robbed him of 
it, and you half killed him in doing it. I came to this 
house because I knew you had it. Do you suppose 
that I am here out of affection for you and my lovely 
old uncle? Day and night, for two weeks, I have 
thought about it, and searched for it. I came to get 
the diamond for Father, and I mean to do it.” 

“But you say that you don’t know where it is? 
What have you done with it? Have you lost it?” 

“You can find out if you can.” 

“I mean to find out. I mean to have you tell me.” 

Arthur sprang up and seized Sylvia’s wrist, with 
a grip which made her wince with pain. She cuffed 
him soundly upon the ear with her free hand. 

“Just for that, you little spitfire,” he cried, “I’m 
going to kiss you.” 

He pinioned both of Sylvia’s hands, bent over her, 
and strove to kiss her. She struggled with all her 
strength, but could not fight him off. She felt his hot 
breath upon her cheek, and his mouth almost touched 
hers. Just at that moment, Arthur received a blow 
upon the side of the head, which seemed as if it came 
from a pile driver, his knees gave way under him, and, 
for the second time that day he went down for the 
count. 

Sylvia swayed and would have fallen, but an arm 
slid around her waist. She looked up, and found her- 
self gazing into Robert’s eyes. 


CHAPTER XV 
The Cross Mark 

“Why are you here, Sylvia?” asked Robert. “Why 
are you not at your Aunt’s house?” 

“Oh, Rob ! I am ashamed to tell you. I have been 
such an idiot. Rob, I have lost the diamond again.” 

“Ha, ha! You don’t say so? Pardon me, dear- 
est, for laughing; but it seems so funny. That dia- 
mond is very much like the Irishman’s flea. Now you 
see it, and now you don’t. I suspected something of 
the kind when I saw you here. Now tell me every- 
thing that happened. I know, though, that it was 
none of your fault.” 

Sylvia began and gave him a complete history of 
everything, up to the minute when he had rescued her 
from Arthur. 

“You did the very best thing that you could,” 
comforted he. “Now take heart, and don’t worry. It 
isn’t lost irretrievably. We will get out of here at 
once, and commence our hunt for the milk bottle with 
the cross upon the cap. We have achieved harder tasks 
than that.” 

“But shall we not do something first for Arthur. 
Oh, Rob, I’m afraid you have hurt him awfully.” 

“Nonsense! I didn’t hit him half as hard as I 
might. A little tap like that will do him no harm. 
His skull’s too thick. It will do him good. Perhaps 
it will drive some sense into him. See ! he’s beginning 
to come around already. Come on; we’ll get out of 
here, before he wakes up. Where is your hat, and 
where are your bags?” 

208 


THE CROSS MARK 


209 

‘‘They are down-stairs, in the room back of the 
parlor.” 

“Get them, Sylvia! Meanwhile, I’ll hunt around 
for my hat. I think it’s in the parlor. Then we’ll 
leave the house for good and all. I, for one, am not 
sorry to go.” 

When they had gone down-stairs, and Sylvia had 
made herself ready for the street, Robert took her suit 
case and Gladstone bag, and they descended to the 
basement and went out of the basement door. 

“I am going to leave your luggage at my house, for 
the present,” said he. “When we are through with 
our search for the cross mark, I will come back and 
get it for you.” 

He carried her things to Mr. Benson’s house, next 
door, and left them with one of the servants. Sylvia 
and he then set out to interview Mrs. Abby. 

Just as they arrived at her house, a taxicab met 
and passed them. It contained a single passenger, an 
old man, who started forward when he saw them, and 
who then withdrew into the hood of the vehicle, as if 
to conceal himself from them. 

“That was Major Dennison,” exclaimed Sylvia. 

They watched the taxicab, and saw it draw up in 
front of the Major’s door. In confirmation of, her 
statement, the Major got out of the conveyance, went 
up the steps, and let himself into the house. 

When Robert and Sylvia arrived at the designated 
address, they went to the side door, rang the bell, and 
were admitted by a neat and motherly-appearing 
woman. She looked at Sylvia, approvingly and smiled. 

“Are you Mrs. Abby?” asked Robert. 

“Yes, sir,” answered she, with a bob and another 
smile. “What can I do for you and the young lady ?” 

“Madam,” answered Robert, “we are looking for 

14 


210 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


a particular bottle of milk, which we think was left 
here by the milkman, an hour ago. This bottle had 
a cross mark upon the cap. This is a very important 
matter to us, and we would be willing to pay hand- 
somely for it.’’ 

''Well, that’s funny. That’s the funniest thing I 
ever heard of. Now, young gentleman, I don’t want 
any money, and Ed give you the bottle gladly, if I had 
it, but I haven’t it. Whether it had a cross mark, I 
don’t know, but I do know that four men were here a 
half hour gone, and wanted that very bottle. One of 
them came inside, and the other three waited on the 
walk. The one who came inside said as how he was a 
medical officer appointed by the County Council. I 
gave him the bottle, and what do you think he did? 
He poured it out in the sink. Then they all four went 
away.” 

"Couldn’t you find the cap for us?” asked Robert. 

Mrs. Abby looked around, and finally produced the 
cap. It was innocent of cross marks. 

"That wasn’t the bottle,” said Robert. "Neverthe^ 
less, we are very much obliged to you.” 

They now took leave of Mrs. Abby, and set out for 
the Smithers house, in Sudbury Street. When they 
had come to the corner of Sudbury and Salton, they 
paused and looked backward toward the Dennison 
mansion. As they did so. Major Dennison and 
Arthur came down the steps, and entered the taxicab, 
which turned about, and came toward Sudbury Street. 

"They will follow us,” exclaimed Sylvia. 

"I don’t see that it will make much difference,” 
said Robert. 

When they came to the Smithers’ house, they 
turned and looked again, and were just in time to see 
the taxicab pass the mouth of the street and vanish. 


THE CROSS MARK 


211 


They now rang the bell, and were admitted to the 
house by a slatternly, but good-looking woman of 
thirty, who proved to be Mrs. Smithers. With many 
apologies for the state of the house, she led them into 
the kitchen, and here they found six of the young 
Smithers, of various sizes and in different degrees of 
dress and undress. Robert took out a sovereign and 
held it out to Mrs. Smithers. 

“This young lady,” said he, “has been taken with 
a sudden desire for a glass of milk. If you can ac- 
commodate her, we will take it as a favor. I would 
like also to divide this sovereign among ypur six 
children.” 

“Em awful sorry,” replied Mrs. Smithers, “but I 
'aven’t such a thing in the 'ouse. If I ’ad, she should 
’ave it and welcome. I ’ad a quart left me by the 
milkman, but some men come ’ere ’arf an hour since, 
and give me ’arf a quid for it. Said they was medical 
hofficers, or somethin’ like that. I pushed out the cap 
for ’em, and give ’em a glass; but they poured the 
milk into the sink, looked it over a minute and went 
away.” 

“Here is a cap,” said Sylvia, as she picked up a 
small cardboard disk from thp kitchen table. “Is this 
the cap, Mrs. Smithers?” 

“Yes, young lydy. That’s the one.” 

“There isn’t any cross upon it,” said Sylvia. 

Mrs. Smithers looked longingly at the sovereign 
which Robert still held in his hand. He passed it 
over to the oldest child. 

“Little girl,” said he, “get this changed and divide 
it up among the six of you.” 

They now left the Smither’s house, and came to 
the shop of Mr. Pedlow, the cobbler, in Kent Street. 
As they were standing in front of the door, the Denni- 


212 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


son taxicab came down the street, and passed them. 

‘T told you they would follow us,” said Sylvia. 

They now entered the shop, but could see no one. 
Robert stepped to a door upon the further side of the 
room, and tried the knob. Finding the door unlocked, 
he opened it. 

“Sylvia, come here!” he cried, excitedly. 

She ran to his side and peered into the room. 
There was a stout chair in the center of the chamber, 
and in this chair, bound hand and foot, gagged and 
also tied to the chair, sat a little, fat old man, pock- 
marked, red-faced and partly bald. His most peculiar 
features, however, were his eyes. One of them now 
roved restlessly about the room, now fastened itself in 
mute appeal upon Robert and Sylvia. The other eye 
moved not at all, but stared unblinking straight ahead. 

^‘Look at his eyes I” exclaimed Sylvia. “What is 
the matter with them?” 

“Nothing, Sylvia dear. One of them is a glass 
eye, that’s all.” 

“But what is he there for? What have they been 
doing to him?” 

“First I’ll get the gag out of his mouth, and set 
him loose, then we’ll find out fast enough. This looks 
like the work of Colby and his gang. It looks as if 
they had got the diamond, doesn’t it?” 

Robert went to work and quickly removed the gag 
from the old shoemaker’s mouth, after which, he took 
out his knife and cut the cords which bound him. For 
a long time the old man was unable to talk or move 
about, but sank down limply in the chair and gasped 
like a dying fish. After Robert, however, had given 
him a glass of water, liberally tinctured with whiskey, 
a bottle of which he had found in one of the cupboards, 
the cobbler, Samuel Pedlow, found his tongue. 


THE CROSS MARK 


213 


“It were about ’arf an hour ago,” said he, “w’en 
four gents come into me shop, and one of ’em, a big, 
smooth-faced chap, he says to me as ’ow ’e wants fer 
to see me on perticler business. I tykes him into this 
’ere room, and the other three blokes comes a-followin’ 
us in, like as if they howned the place. Then the big 
blighter he says, says he, ‘we be horficers o’ the board 
o’ ’elth, and we want fer to know wot kind o’ milk 
you have been abuyin’?’ I says to ’im, ‘wot’s that to 
you?’ and he says, ‘None of your gaff! Bring out 
that ’ere bottle wot you bought of the milkman ’arf an 
hour ago. We means fer to test it,’ and I says, ‘You 
mean for to test it?’ and he says, ‘That’s what we mean 
fer to do,’ and I says to ’im, ‘get t’ell out of ’ere.’ Then 
they jumps me, and ’fore I ’arf knows wot they was 
doin’ they ’ad me gagged and bound ’and and foot, 
like a bloomin’ goat. Then they ransacks me pantry 
and me cupboards, and brings out a bottle o’ milk wot 
was more’n ’arf full, wot I ’ad from the milkman this 
arternoon, and they pours it into a pan, and stirs it 
hup wi’ a spoon, and looks at it. Then one of ’em, 
a black-bearded, blarsted cove, he comes in front o’ me, 
and looks at me a long time wi’ a funny look, hall the 
time a cursin’ hunder ’is breath. Then they hall goes 
out and leaves me, and I ben a sittin’ ’ere this ’arf hour, 
a waitin’ fer someone to come along and lemme loose.” 

After Robert and Sylvia had left the cobbler’s shop, 
and were returning to Salton Street, they discussed the 
curious happening which had befallen the old man. 

“Do you think,” asked Sylvia, “that Colby and the 
rest have secured the diamond?” 

“No,” answered Robert. “I think that old Ped- 
low has it. I am going to take you home first and 
then I am coming back to investigate him for a while 
upon my own account.” 


CHAPTER XVI 
The Glass Eye 

Half way from Mr. Pedlow’s shop to the corner 
of Sudbury Street there was a narrow lane. When they 
were passing the mouth of the lane, Sylvia laid her 
hand upon Robert’s arm, and stopped him. 

‘‘There is a man lurking behind the corner of that 
alleyway,” exclaimed she. 

It was half past eight o’clock, the darkness had 
settled down, the nearest light was upon the next 
street corner, and Robert could see no one, though he 
looked diligently. 

“He must have gone along the lane,” said he. “I 
can’t see anybody.” 

“Nevertheless, he was there just now. Further- 
more, it was Mathews, one of Colby’s company. I had 
a good look at him.” 

“Are you certain? It is quite dark, and you may 
have been mistaken.” 

“I couldn’t be mistaken. I have known him for 
over a year, and have spoken with him a number of 
times. I saw his face plainly.” 

“If it is really Mathews, I suppose I ought to go 
back to old Pedlow’s shop, and see what happens. 
First, though, I am going to take you to your aunt’s. 
If there is going to be trouble here it will be no place 
for you. Also, diamond or no diamond, we are going 
to get something to eat. We haven’t eaten since noon, 
and I don’t propose to have my sweetheart starve. 
There is a good restaurant in Oxford Street, and it is 
on our way to Maida Vale.” 

214 


THE GLASS EYE 


215 


As they approached Sudbury Street, two men, who 
were standing upon the corner, turned about and walked 
swiftly away. 

“That was Major Dennison and Arthur,” an- 
nounced Sylvia, with decision. “I told you that they 
were following and watching us.” 

‘T think, rather, that they are watching the Colby 
gang, and, more particularly Mathews. Come along, 
Sylvia dear. We haven’t much time to lose. There’s 
going to be something doing here, and I want to get 
back to the scene of operations as soon as possible.” 

They now walked swiftly down Sudbury Street to 
Salton, and down Salton Street to Farringdon Road, 
passing the Dennison and Benson houses as they went. 
In Farringdon Road they were fortunate enough to 
find a taxicab, and being driven back to Mr. Benson’s 
house, Robert secured Sylvia’s suit case and Gladstone. 
In ten minutes more they arrived at the restaurant in 
Oxford Street, and Robert sat down with Sylvia at a 
table in one corner, which was half hidden behind a 
marble column and some palms. 

“I feel it in my bones,” said Robert, “that I am 
going to capture the diamond again tonight. I don’t 
know how it is, but I seem to have a sort of a certain 
sure feeling about it.” 

“Whatever you do,” exclaimed Sylvia, with a 
glance toward him, which filled him with delight, “you 
mustn’t go into any danger. It isn’t worth it.” 

“Would you be really sorry to have me go into 
danger?” 

“Any woman should be sorry to have any decent 
man go into danger.” 

“There is a man I know who would be glad to risk 
any danger, if it were only for you.” 

“If a man thought a good deal of a girl, and knew 


2i6 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


that she liked him, he wouldn’t do anything of the 
kind. He would respect her wishes.” 

Soft strains of music came from some concealed 
place. That, the subdued murmur of voices and of 
laughter, the soft plashing of a near by fountain, the 
palms and oleanders and the painted nymphs and 
cupids upon the walls and ceiling made it all seem like 
fairy land. The table was lighted by rose-shaded wax 
candles, and their radiance upon Sylvia’s face made 
her beauty so irresistible that Robert became almost 
idiotically sentimental. He patted her white hand, 
where it lay upon the whiter cloth, he squeezed the tips 
of her fingers, he leaned forward and gazed into her 
blue eyes, long and ardently. 

'‘Don’t be so silly, Rob,” said she; “someone will 
see you. I think that the waiter has already noticed 
it. He smirks abominably.” 

Nevertheless, she was not really so much put out 
about it. Had she been, she might have kept her 
hand in her lap, when they were not engaged with 
knife and fork. Also, she would not have looked at 
him as she did. 

“Sylvia,” said Robert, when they were once more 
in the cab, “I am getting uneasy about Mathews and 
Pedlow. I am going to have the chauffeur drive us by 
Pedlow’s shop, so we can see if anything has happened. 
I will have him go by the way of Cross Street, the next 
street beyond Sudbury, so we won’t have to pass 
Mathews and the Dennisons. They may be still loiter- 
ing there, and I don’t want them to see us again.” 

“Very well, Rob. I am in no hurry to get to 
Aunt’s. In fact, I am content to be with you. Be- 
sides, I would really like to take part in whatever hap- 
pens. If I am with you, I think that you will take 
better care of yourself.” 


THE GLASS EYE 


217 


When they came to the corner of Cross and Kent 
Streets, Robert had the chauffeur stop the cab, and he 
himself got out to reconnoitre on foot. 

“May I not come too?” said Sylvia. 

“No, you are to stay in the cab. I will be back 
in five minutes.” 

He was soon to be glad that he had so insisted. 

When he arrived at the cobbler’s shop, he found 
everything dark and silent. The door was unlocked, 
as he pushed it open, the bell rang as before, and it 
seemed to have a fateful andj evil sound. He struck a 
match, found the lamp upon the mantel shelf, and 
lighted it. Then he went to the further door, opened 
it, and peered within. What he saw caused him to 
enter the room hastily, and close the door. 

It was a horrid sight which met his eye. Chairs 
and table had been overturned, and broken crockery 
strewed the floor. Old Samuel Pedlow lay upon his 
back, upon the carpet, his throat, from ear to ear, was 
slashed with a ghastly wound, and he was fairly en- 
circled by a pool of his own blood. His one good eye 
was open, and stared fixedly at the ceiling. His glass 
eye was gone, and in its place, there was a deep cavity, 
half filled with cotton. Robert now noticed a small 
object upon the floor, which sparkled in the lamplight. 
He picked it up and inspected it. It was the old man’s 
glass eye. Instantly the truth came to him. 

“He hid the diamond in the cotton, behind his 
glass eye,” thought he, “it was there all the time that 
he sat, bound, in the chair. How, though, did Colby 
and the rest find it out ? The poor old man’s cupidity 
has cost him his life. This is the first victim of the 
oval diamond. I hope that it will be the last.” 

He flung the eye away from him with disgust and 
repulsion, came from the room and closed the door. 


2i8 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


He was putting the lamp back in its place, when he 
noticed, lying upon the mantel shelf, a cardboard disc, 
about two inches in diameter. He took it up and 
looked at it. Upon one side of it there was a black 
pencilled cross. 

“That is poor Sylvia’s cross mark,” said he. 

He now extinguished the light, and let himself out 
into the street. The cool night air soothed his nerves 
and gave him relief from the influence of the ghastly 
scene which he had just witnessed. 

As he stood upon the walk, wondering what was 
best to do in the matter, he chanced to look toward 
Sudbury Street, and he saw a group of a dozen per- 
sons, standing at the head of the lane, where Mathews 
had been loitering. He proceeded toward them quickly 
and as he neared them, he noticed that they were talk- 
ing and gesticulating excitedly. He pushed his way 
through the crowd and at once found out the cause of 
their excitement. There was a dead man lying upon 
the cobbles of the alleyway. 

His coat had been ripped from his back and was 
lying beside him in two pieces. Its pockets, as well as 
^he pockets of his vest and trousers, had been pulled 
inside out, and their contents, a pocket book, a watch, 
some silver coins, a knife and some other articles were 
strewn about. He was a short, stout man, his face 
was ghastly white, more white and ghastly still, by 
comparison with his black beard and eyebrows. Robert 
knew the man at once. It was Mathews, one of Colby’s 
gang. 

“What’s the matter with him?” asked he of a 
bystander. 

“Some blighter bashed ’is ’ead in wi’ a club, and 
then robbed ’im,” answered the man. 

“No, he didn’t rob him,” said another of the crowd. 


THE GLASS EYE 


219 


“there’s his watch and money. He didn’t take them.” 

“Then wy is hall ’is pockets pulled hinside hout, I’d 
like to know. They must ’a took summat, that’s plain.” 

“Are you sure he’s dead?” asked Robert. 

“Dead!” exclaimed some one in the crowd. “He 
couldn’t be deader. That’s his brains runnin’ over the 
cobbles.” 

Robert turned away and set out to rejoin Sylvia. 

“That,” said he to himself, “is the second victim of 
the oval diamond, and the end is not yet, or I am much 
mistaken. And now, who did it? Suspicion points 
to the Dennisons. They were waiting and watching 
close by. Who else could or would have murdered 
him? Arthur probably struck the blow. He is evil 
enough and strong enough. I would like to make a 
bet of ten to one, also, that he struck from behind. 
That’s his way. I can figure it all out now. I can 
see the whole thing plainly. Mathews was the only 
one of the four to guess the riddle. He alone figured 
out that old Pedlow had hidden the diamond behind 
his glass eye. He tried to cheat his three pals and get 
it for himself alone. That is the way with thieves, 
they are never fair even with each other. He killed 
the old shoemaker and was killed himself a few minutes 
afterward. He certainly deserved his fate. I think 
that I know the present whereabouts of the oval 
diamond. The one best bet is that the Dennisons 
have it.” 

On his way down the street, Robert was astonished 
to find that he was somewhat weak and faint. His 
tongue seemed dry, and he felt a slight nausea. 

“Robert,” exclaimed Sylvia, as he stepped into the 
cab, “how pale you are! What has happened? Are 
you sick?” 

“Not a bit. Never felt in better health.” 


220 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


“Well you don’t look it. Did you see the old shoe- 
maker ?” 

“He had gone out.” 

“Did you see anything of Mathews?” 

“No, he has gone out, too. I mean he has gone.” 

Robert didn’t want to shock Sylvia by telling her 
of the tragedies. When he said “gone out,” he added, 
under his breath, “of the world.” 

They now droVe to the house of Sylvia’s Aunt, in 
Maida Vale, going by way of Oxford Street and the 
Edgeware Road. It was, of course, the most delightful 
ride which Robert had ever taken. He was sure that 
he would have liked to go on that way forever, with 
his dear one so close beside him. The touch of her 
young and supple form, which the movement of the 
cab at times swayed near to him, and the sweet fra- 
grance of her hair, a wisp of which now and then 
would brush his cheek, thrilled him through and 
through, and made him want her more than words 
could tell. 

Part of the time she let him hold her hand. Once 
he put his other hand upon her further shoulder, and 
tried to pull her to him, that he might kiss her, but 
she drew away. 

“Not now, Rob,” said she. 

They had arrived at their destination, and Robert 
had gone up the steps with her to say good-bye, and 
to arrange about seeing her the following morning. 
The chauffeur had driven up to the next corner, in 
order to make the turn, and the maid was just opening 
the door. Suddenly, Sylvia, who was standing a step 
above him, leaned over and gave Robert a perfect and 
heavenly kiss. Then she fled into the house. All the 
way back to Salton Street, he floated upon an ocean 
of bliss. 


CHAPTER XVII 
The Toll of the Diamond 

It was eleven o’clock when Robert returned to the 
Benson house, and came into his rooms. As he ap- 
proached the window of his working room, he saw that 
the upper hall and the dining-room of the Dennison 
house were lighted. The shades of the French win- 
dows of the dining-room were up, and one of the 
windows was standing open. While he was watching, 
the Major and his son came into the room. The old 
man took a small object from his vest pocket and handed 
it to his son. Arthur held it and gazed at it attentively. 
Then he handed it back to his father. 

“That is the oval diamond,” exclaimed Robert to 
himself. “I am going to capture that diamond tonight, 
if I have to knock them both out. This is my one best 
chance. I may never have another. There are two 
ways of doing it. One is to take it by force, the other 
to watch and find out where they hide it. I prefer the 
former. Well, here goes.” 

He got upon the top of the wall, climbed into the 
tree, made his way to the ground, and stole softly 
through the garden. As he passed the( marble nymph 
she seemed more sad and disconsolate than ever. There 
was something oppressive, gloomy and fateful about 
the whole place, which he had not noticed when Sylvia 
was there. When he arrived at the porch, he blotted 
himself out in the corner, made by the front part of 
the porch and the house wall. His eyes were just 
above the railing of the veranda, and he could both see 
and hear everything that took place in the room. The 

221 


222 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


old man was sitting at the head of the dining-room 
table, in a large, upholstered oaken arm chair. Arthur 
sat opposite him. By the old man’s side, upon the 
table, there was a tray, with a bottle, a syphon and 
glasses. The Major was talking. 

‘Tt won’t do,” said he. “Tomorrow every detec- 
tive in Scotland yard will be employed upon these two 
murder cases. Every pier and dock in the country will 
be watched, and no suspected person will be able to 
leave the kingdom. In London there are seven mil- 
lions of people, with fourteen millions of eyes. Some 
of those eyes saw us idling about the corner of Kent 
and Sudbury Streets, and they will give a description 
of us to the police. It won’t do. The best way is to 
lie low, until the chase is ended, and until the affair 
blows over. The police are notoriously incompetent. 
The chances are ten to one that they go off upon a 
false scent. By trying to leave now, we invite disaster. 
Not only will we lose a fortune, but we will come into 
serious danger of our lives.” 

“My idea was to go alone,” said Arthur. “There 
are boats sailing every day for Bremen, Hamburg, 
Ostend or Antwerp. There is old Isaacs at Antwerp. 
He would negotiate the sale for us, and no questions 
asked.” 

“I tell you it won’t do. You would be stopped 
before the boat pulled out. Now that I think of it, we 
were actually seen in the locality of the murders by 
someone who knows us. Sylviaj and that confounded 
blighter, that young man of hers, whom you call 'Rob,’ 
saw us standing upon the corner. I saw her start and 
clutch his arm, and I know that she recognized us.” 

“All the more reason why we should get away. All 
the more reason why we shouldn’t stay, to be caught 
like rats in a hole.” 


THE TOLL OF THE DIAMOND 


223 


'‘Nothing of the kind. We had nothing to do with 
the death of the shoemaker, and there is no proof, 
whatsoever, that we did for Mathews. The fact that 
we were near the locality at the time is no great matter. 
However, if you are arrested, as you are trying to 
leave the kingdom, and the goods are found upon you, 
what then? You stand a good chance of having your 
neck stretched, and I will have considerable trouble 
myself, in getting clear of it. By the by, how comes it 
that Sylvia didn’t get away with the stone after she 
found it? She and her pal worked out my cypher 
message, and undoubtedly secured it.” 

“Probably Colby and his gang arrived before they 
could leave the house.” 

“That may be; but where does old Pedlow come in? 
How did he get hold of it?” 

“Ask me something easier. The fact remains that 
we have possession, and it seems to me that the best 
plan is to make a get away at once. I could go down 
to Greenhythe or Gravesend, hire a boatman, and take 
a steamer there. That would be a sure and safe way 
of evading the police.” 

“I won’t listen to it for a moment. Besides, when 
the stone goes I go with it. I am going to transact the 
business myself.” 

“I suppose. Dad, that means that you don’t trust 
me.” 

“And why should I trust you? You have been 
invariably dishonest. Only a few months ago you 
stole that eight carat stone from my strong box and 
sold it at Praetoria. Also, you lied about it.” 

“I had to have the money. Dad. I had lost at 
cards. It was a debt of honor.” 

“And how do I know how many debts of honor 
you have at the present time? No, it will be as I say. 


224 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


When it is safe to do so, we will cross to the continent, 
take our time to it, and make the best bargain possible. 
I will then give you a proper share of the proceeds; 
say about twenty-five per cent.” 

'‘Aren’t you getting a little too generous, Dad? 
You are so liberal that I am astonished. You forget 
the fact that you wouldn’t have the stone now, if it 
were not for me.” 

'T forget nothing. I don’t forget the fact that 
you made a fool of yourself. It was expressly under- 
stood that you were to stun the man. Instead of that, 
you used all your strength, and smashed his skull. As 
usual, you acted the idiot, and you may have got us 
into serious trouble. If it is proved upon us, you 
swing for it. I myself will be seriously inconvenienced 
in proving my innocence.” 

'T suppose that, in proving your innocence, you 
would leave me in the hole?” 

"It would certainly be my duty to clear myself.” 

"Thanks, Dad, for your candor. I will remember 
it.” 

"What is the matter with this port?” asked the 
Major, querulously. "It tastes like liquorice. Isn’t 
there any of that 1870 Hennessey left?” 

"Yes, Dad. I’ll go and get a bottle.” 

Arthur left the room and remained away for ten 
minutes. At the end of that time, he returned with 
a decanter, and placed it upon the tray, beside his 
father. 

"What did you decant it for?” grumbled the Major. 
"I wanted the original bottle. I want to see what I 
am drinking.” 

"I did it to save you the trouble. Dad.” 

The old man took three fingers of brandy, neat. 
After that, he sat silent for several minutes. 


THE TOLL OF THE DIAMOND 


225 


‘T don’t know what’s the matter with me,” said he 
presently. “I feel very queerly. I seem to have 
trouble in breathing. I can’t get a long breath. There 
seems to be something pressing upon my chest. I 
must have eaten something that disagrees with me.” 

Arthur had his elbows upon the table, he was sup- 
porting his chin in his hands, and was regarding his 
father with a curious expression. Just then a con- 
vulsive shudder shook his father’s frame. 

“Arthur,” he cried, “I’m sick. What can be the 
matter? I never felt like this before. I shake all over. 
There it is again. I am suffocating. Do something. 
Can’t you ?” 

Arthur still gazed at his father, with the same 
speculative look. He made no move whatever to alle- 
viate his sufferings. The old man stared at his son 
for a moment, and the truth burst upon him. 

“You dog!” he cried, “you hound of hell! You 
have poisoned me. It’s that cyanide you bought last 
week to kill a cat with. You d — d unnatural cub! 
To think that I should live to be poisoned by my own 
son. Speak! Say something! Can’t you speak?” 

The old man’s talk was interrupted by another and 
more violent convulsion. Arthur still looked at him in 
silence. Suddenly the Major started up, took some 
small object from his vest pocket, and flung it far 
through the open window. Arthur sprang up, with a 
curse, opened a drawer in the sideboard, took out a 
pocket electric search light, and rushed out of the pas- 
sage, and down the porch steps into the grounds. 

The Major’s face had turned a bluish white, drops 
of sweat ran down his forehead, and he sat crumpled 
up in his chair. Presently he raised himself, with a 
great effort of will, half turned, and took a round knob 
from the top of one of the two posts of the chair back. 

15 


226 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


Then he reached again into his vest pocket, drew out 
the oval diamond, placed it in the cavity, where the 
stem of the knob had been, and replaced the knob. This 
effort seemed to have sapped his whole remaining 
vitality, for he now collapsed utterly, and slid from 
the chair to the floor, his head and shoulders still rest- 
ing upon the chair cushion. 

Robert was filled with horror, loathing and dis- 
gust. He hesitated about going into the room, and 
recovering the diamond; but the thought that it be- 
longed to Sylvia, and that it represented her entire 
fortune nerved him to the accomplishment of his pur- 
pose. He had his hands upon the rail, and was about 
to pull himself up and climb over it upon the porch; 
but he heard just then a rustling in the grass, beyond 
the further end of the porch, and he hesitated. Pres- 
ently a man came gliding along the wall of the house, 
tiptoed up the veranda steps, and stood gazing through 
the French window. The light from the room fell full 
upon his face, and disclosed the features of Peterson, 
the Swede. 

His glances wandered about the room for a long 
moment before he perceived the body of the Major. 
At first, he started in astonishment, then he glided 
silently into the chamber, knelt by the arm chair, and 
commenced to search the pockets of the deceased. 
Finding that the cramped position of the Major’s body 
prevented him from doing this to advantage, he pres- 
ently toppled the old man over upon the floor, and 
turned him upon his back. Just as he had pulled a 
number of the Major’s pockets inside out, and was 
cursing under his breath at his non-success, Arthur 
Dennison came up the porch steps, passed through the 
passage, and entered the dining-room. 

Peterson looked up, saw him, and sprang to his 


THE TOLL OF THE DIAMOND 227 

feet. Arthur thrust a hand into his coat pocket for a 
pistol, but Peterson was too quick for him, and had him 
around the body before he had a chance to draw it. 
Backward and forward the two men swayed. They 
were evenly matched, and neither seemed to have the 
advantage. Presently, Robert saw Peterson raise a 
knife, and drive it downward once, twice, thrice. At 
the third blow, Arthur’s pistol resounded. Peterson 
straightened up, loosed his hold upon his enemy, and 
toppled backward upon the floor. Arthur staggered 
to the table and rested his weight upon it. He looked 
around for a moment, with a sort of surprised and 
dazed expression upon his face. Then he, too, col- 
lapsed and sank to the floor. 


CHAPTER XVIII 
Honor Among Thieves 

If Robert was shocked before, he was now horrified 
beyond words. Had it not been for the thought of 
Sylvia, he never could have brought himself to enter 
the house again. At length, nerving himself for the 
ordeal, he went to the other end of the porch, ascended 
the steps, came through the passage, and entered the 
dining-room. Stepping gingerly between the dead 
men, he got to the back of the Major’s chair, lifted the 
knob from the post of the chair back, and picked the 
diamond out of the hole. 

As he held it in his hand, and looked at it, the glow 
of the electric light made it sparkle with a brilliance 
unbelievable. Its flashes darted here and there, as if 
it were in truth a living thing. Yet it had no beauty 
for Robert. It had caused the deaths of five men that 
very day. It seemed to him an accursed thing. Some- 
thing malevolent, sinister and devilish. He was half 
tempted to throw it through the open window, or to go 
outside and bury it, where no one might ever find it 
again. He was influenced toward this course by the 
thought that it might bring misfortune to Sylvia, and 
it was with difficulty that he repressed the desire to 
make away with it. 

As he stood thus contemplating the stone, and lost 
in meditation, he became aware of footsteps within 
the passage. He looked up and saw two men standing 
in the doorway. They were Colby and Saunders. 
Colby was leveling a pistol. Robert was uncomfort- 
ably conscious of the large, round, black hole in the 

228 


HONOR AMONG THIEVES 


229 

end of the barrel, and of the steadiness with which 
Colby held it. 

‘‘Hands up!” commanded Colby, even as he had 
done that very afternoon. 

Robert did not put up his hands. Instead, he 
ducked, doubled his legs together, and stood upon his 
toes. At the same instant, Colby fired and missed. In 
a second more, and as Colby fired again, Rob was in 
the front hall. There were two courses open to him : 
he might run into the parlor, or he might go upstairs. 
He chose the latter. When he had gained the top 
landing, his pursuers were already at the foot of the 
stairs. He acted quickly, otherwise, he had not been 
Robert the Sudden. There was a great lounge, or 
sofa, framed of mahogany, and covered with hair 
cloth, which stood against the wall, immediately to the 
right of the landing. This he heaved upon end, and 
held at the top of the stairs. As he did so, he was 
gladly conscious that the bottom of it was crossed with 
inch thick, hard wood boards. His two enemies had 
now reached the first landing, and Saunders, who also 
had a pistol, fired twice. Robert, safe behind his 
breastworks of six inch cushion and inch boards, 
laughed at him. Both Colby and Saunders now rushed 
him. He had held the, position as long as it was 
tenable and it was now time to retreat. He flung the 
sofa down upon them, and they were carried back and 
prostrated upon the landing below. 

He now ran along the passage, meaning to make 
his escape through the billiard room to the porch roof, 
and thence to gain ground. To his dismay, he found 
the billiard room door closed and locked. He drew 
back and kicked against it with all his might, and the 
door rattled upon its hinges. With another kick the 
bolt of the lock broke, and the door flew open. His 


230 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


adversaries had, by this time, got rid of the sofa, and 
gained the top of the stairs. Making his exit from the 
window was now impossible. There wasn’t time for 
it, and it would afford them too good a mark. He, 
therefore, dove under the billiard table. 

Colby and Saunders had made so much racket in 
getting from under the sofa, and had meanwhile sworn 
so fervently and loudly, that they failed to hear Rob 
kick the door open. So it was that Colby went into 
the library and Saunders, alone, ran into the billiard 
room. The latter, at once, went to the open window, 
put his hands upon the sill, and leaning out, surveyed 
the roof of the veranda. Robert quickly stole from 
under the billiard table, gripped Saunders by both 
ankles, and toppled him over, head first, upon the 
roof. Saunders, who was as nimble as a cat, re- 
covered himself in an instant, turned about, and fired 
again ; but the bullet only shattered a pane of the upper 
sash. 

Robert now ran swiftly around the billiard table, 
and into the passage, meaning to gain the stairway, 
and get to the lower story. In this he was frustrated 
by Colby, who at the moment, came from the library 
into the hall. Between the billiard room and the stair 
landing stood the door to the attic stairs, and it was 
half open. Before Colby could fire, Rob had darted 
through the doorway, and was on his way to the attic. 

“What shall I do now?” thought he. “It seems 
to me that I am at the end of my rope.” 

His one thought through all the scrimmage had 
been the preservation of Sylvia’s fortune. If he 
thought of the likelihood of his being killed, it was only 
in the light of his thereby losing the diamond. 

By the dim light which came up from the story 
below he was enabled to survey his surroundings. He 


HONOR AMONG THIEVES 


231 


thought first of hiding behind the pile of old trunks and 
boxes which encumbered the place; but gave up the 
plan at once as futile and useless. In the center of 
the attic stood a ladder, which went up to the scuttle. 
The moment he perceived it, a new idea came to him; 
he would get upon the roof, haul up the ladder, and bid 
defiance to his pursuers. In this advantageous position 
he could stand a siege for hours. Also, in the morn- 
ing, he could halloo to passers-by and have the police 
brought. This resolution was carried out as soon as 
it was formed. He was at the top of the ladder before 
Colby and Saunders were half way up the attic stairs. 

He had not reckoned upon the scuttle hatch, which, 
at first, resisted his efforts to raise it. Putting his 
shoulder against it, however, he gave a mighty heave, 
and it burst open and fell over upon the roof. Once 
upon the roof, he seized the end of the ladder, and 
commenced to pull it up. When he had raised it three 
or four feet, he felt an answering pull, and knew that 
the two men had gotten hold of it. That part of his 
plan must be given up. 

At one moment, he thought of taking his stand by 
the scuttle, like Horatius on the bridge, and defending 
the outlet against the assaults of his two pursuers. 
This idea also had to be given up. They had fire arms, 
and he had none. He wouldn’t stand a ghost of a 
chance. He now spied the heavy scuttle hatch, which 
was slowly sliding down the gable roof, toward the 
eaves, at the back of the house. Presently it came to 
a stop against a large, wide chimney, which stood at 
the bottom of the roof, directly beside the eave trough, 
and a new inspiration immediately came to him. 

He sat down upon the roof, and began to slide 
gently down toward the chimney. When he reached 
it, he stood up, took hold of it, worked his way around 


232 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


to the further side, and stood in the eave trough, which 
was all of a foot wide, made of copper, and amply 
strong enough to support his weight. Then he reached 
up, got hold of the scuttle, and pulled it around to his 
own side of the chimney. By this time, Colby and 
Saunders had come up the ladder, and out of the 
scuttle upon the roof. 

‘T don’t see the blighter,” said Colby. “Where 
can he have got to ? The light’s awful poor ; still, we 
ought to see him.” 

“Aiblins, the lad’s behind one of those two chim- 
neys. I’ll look at this one.” 

Saunders went along the ridge pole, and peered 
behind a chimney, which stood at the end of it. 

“Deil a sign of him here,” announced he. 

“Then there’s only one other place he may be, and 
that’s behind that chimney at the back. Come on, 
we’ll go down and see.” 

Both men sat upon the roof and began to work their 
way downward. Rob now stood up, and raised the 
heavy hatch, which weighed all of a hundred pounds, 
and flung it into the air, at the same time, giving utter- 
ance to a blood-curdling yell. The hatch thudded 
heavily upon the ground below, and Colby and Saunders 
paused involuntarily. 

“He’s fallen off the roof,” exclaimed Colby. 

“Sure as judgment,” assented Saunders. “The 
cheil’s dead and his bluid is not on our hands; so we 
needna fash oursels about it. All we got to do is to 
go down and get the stone.” 

“Better not be too sure. That chap is a pretty 
sharp customer, and you can’t sometimes most always 
tell about that kind. Let’s go down to the chimney 
and have a look, anyway.” 

Robert now sat down in the eave trough, swung 


HONOR AMONG THIEVES 


233 


himself over the edge, and worked his way along, 
hand over hand, to a point twenty feet away, where he 
hung motionless. When the two men reached the 
chimney they steadied themselves by holding to the 
brick work, passed around it, and stood in the eave 
trough. 

‘T was right,’’ said Saunders, '‘the puir deevil has 
gone to his account, and the diamond is ours.” 

"The diamond is mine, you mean,” retorted Colby, 
in a harsh tone. 

There were sounds of a struggle between the men. 

"Don’t!” screamed Saunders. "Don’t, Colby! Oh, 
my God!” 

Robert saw a man’s body hurtle through the air, 
and heard it strike the ground, more than thirty feet 
below. 

Colby had thrown Saunders from the roof. 

"That makes six,” said Robert to himself. "Who 
will be the next victim?” 

Again a feeling of nausea invaded him. He was 
forced to exert himself to throw it off, or he would 
have let go his hold, and fallen through sheer weakness. 
He heard Colby listening for a long moment. This is 
no Celtic expression, he could absolutely hear him 
listening. For a moment there was a rustling, a kick- 
ing and a tapping on the grass below. Then all was 
still. Colby now commenced to make his way up the 
roof. 

Rob waited until he heard him descending the lad- 
der in the attic. Then he drew himself up, and at- 
tempted to climb into the gutter. Twice he tried it, 
and twice he failed. The third time, he got his knee 
over the edge of it, and by a superhuman effort, lifted 
himself, and rolled over into the trough. Here he was 
fain to lie for a full minute, in order to rest his muscles. 


234 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


tired and fagged beyond words, by his long spell of 
hanging by his hands, and by the last cruel strain which 
he had put upon him. 

There was no time to lose, however. He must gain 
the scuttle, go down the ladder, descend the stairway 
to the first story, make his exit from the house, and 
lose himself in the garden, before Colby should find out 
the trick which had been put upon him, and should 
return to intercept him. He had small trouble in 
scrambling up the roof, and in descending to the first 
floor. Here, however, was the greatest obstacle. He 
would have to pass through the dining-room, that 
shambles, that charnel house, again, and his heart failed 
him at the thought of it. He strove to cross the 
chamber, without letting his eyes rest upon the dead 
men; but their white faces, their staring eyes, their 
twisted bodies and distorted limbs obtruded themselves 
obstinately upon his vision. 

When, finally, he had cossed the garden, and had 
climbed to his room, he thanked heaven that he was 
safe and sound at home, and he vowed a vow that never 
would he enter that fateful house again. 


CHAPTER XIX 
The Biter Bit 

The next morning* after breakfast, Robert prepared 
to visit Sylvia at her aunt’s home in Maida Vale. As 
he came out of the Benson house, he noticed a man 
standing upon the walk, about a hundred yards up the 
street. When the man saw Robert coming down the 
steps, he hid himself behind a tree. 

‘‘That is curious,” thought Robert. “Let me in- 
vestigate a bit.” 

He took a few paces toward the man, whereat the 
fellow came quickly from behind the tree, and walked 
swiftly away. The intervening distance was too great 
for positive identification; but there was something 
about the man’s walk, and about his head and shoulders, 
which suggested Colby. Robert now went over to 
Farringdon Road, hailed a passing motor cab, and was 
driven to Sylvia’s house. Sylvia received him in the 
parlor. She was as bright and fresh and rosy as a 
June morning. Perhaps the thought of what she had 
done, in taking leave of Robert the night before, made 
her rosier than she otherwise would have been. 

“I have brought you something,” said Robert. 

He put his fingers in his vest pocket, and pulled 
forth the oval diamond. Sylvia handled it lovingly 
and gazed at it from every possible view point. 

“But how in heaven’s name did you get it?” asked 

she. 

Robert had, not told Sylvia of the death of Pedlow 
and Mathews. He was also determined to keep from 
her the knowledge of what had happened to the Den- 

235 


236 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


nisons and to Peterson and Saunders. Their tragic 
fate would shock and horrify her beyond words, and 
would give her such an aversion for the gem that she 
would be likely to cast it from her like an evil thing. 
It was her sole fortune, they had come into possession 
of it through much labor and tribulation, and he was 
determined that she should enjoy the proceeds of its 
sale. 

‘T took it away from the Dennisons,” answered he. 
“Mathews probably had it from old Pedlow, the shoe- 
maker, and the Dennisons took it from Mathews. 
When I got back to my rooms last night, I saw a light 
in the Dennisons’ dining-room. I climbed down into 
the grounds, and stole over to the corner of the porch. 
The Major and his son were sitting at the dining-room 
table, one of the French windows was open, and I could 
hear and see everything. Presently, the old man drew 
the stone from his pocket, took a knob from the top 
of one of the posts of the back of his chair, placed the 
stone in the hole, and put back the knob. I waited 
until the Major and Arthur had gone out, then I got 
into the room and secured the diamond. It was all 
ridiculously easy and simple.” 

“Yes, it sounds simple,” said Sylvia, at the same 
time giving him a doubting and penetrating look. 

“Our next move is now the question,” continued 
he, “we are running a great risk as long as the stone 
is in our possession. If I had my way, I would have 
you leave for Paris this very day. I won’t feel easy 
until you have given the diamond to your father, and 
he has delivered it to the diamond merchant, and re- 
ceived his money. What do you say?” 

“I feel just as you do about it, Rob. I will go 
today, on one condition.” 

“And what is that?” 


THE BITER BIT 


237 


“The condition is that you go with me.” 

“I was about to beg permission to do that very 
thing.” 

“Rob Ledyard, you are certainly a very good young 
man. You anticipate my every wish.” 

“Who wouldn’t with such a girl?” 

“You are also a great flatterer. The greatest I 
have ever met. Not that that is absolutely a defect. 
Of course, I am like all other girls, and I will now tell 
you a secret. No matter what they say, deep down 
in their hearts, all girls like to have nice things said 
about them.” 

“Of course, I was -only asking permission to go, 
as a matter of form. I couldn’t allow you to cross 
the channel alone, anyway. The risk would be too 
great, the stone is too valuable, and you yourself are 
a million times more valuable than the stone. Now, 
about the boat. We can’t get the twelve o’clock boat 
now. If we take the six o’clock boat, we reach Bou- 
logne at about eight-thirty, and we arrive in Paris at 
some time after midnight. I don’t like the idea of 
reaching Paris after midnight, under the circumstances. 
I propose that we take the eight o’clock train tonight 
for Folkestone. I will put you up at the best hotel 
there, and we will cross the channel on the twelve 
o’clock boat tomorrow. Do you think, Sylvia dearest, 
that you could get along at Folkestone tonight without 
a chaperone?” 

“The idea! I never had a chaperone, and I have 
no use for one. You forget that I have roughed it for 
years with Dad on the plains and in the mountains of 
western America, and in the wilds of Africa. Not- 
withstanding that, though, I want you to distinctly 
understand that I have always conducted myself in a 
highly correct and proper manner.” 


238 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


“One would know that, after having been with you 
but a very few minutes.” 

Sylvia now called her Aunt into the room, and 
made her acquainted with Robert. After he had talked 
with the two ladies for a half hour, and after he had 
made an arrangement with Sylvia to call for her at 
six thirty, he took his leave. As he was going down 
the steps, he got another view of the man whom he 
had seen in the neighborhood of Mr. Benson’s house. 
This time he was standing upon the opposite side of 
the way, some distance down the street. 

“That is surely Colby,” said Robert to himself. 
“Before I was uncertain, but now I know. It is 
strange that he could have trailed me here. I must 
have led him a lively chase. Perhaps, though, he didn’t 
have to trail me. He undoubtedly knew where Sylvia 
lived, and he would naturally suppose that I would go 
to Sylvia. I see that the struggle isn’t over yet. Colby 
is a bad man, and a most able rascal. I will have to 
sit up nights and keep my eyes wide open, in order to 
circumvent him.” 

Robert now returned home, ate his lunch, and 
packed his things. Then he took another cab, and was 
driven to the retail shopping districts, where he made 
some purchases. He was particular about one certain 
article, and found it necessary to visit a half dozen 
shops before he secured what he wanted. At six- 
thirty, he called for Sylvia, and they were driven to 
the Charing Cross Station of the London and South 
Eastern Railway, arriving there at about seven-thirty. 

When Robert went to the booking office to buy 
their transportation, he found quite a line of people 
awaiting their turn. After he had taken his place in 
the line, still others came, and he found himself 
jammed in between a fat woman in front and a gray- 


THE BITER BIT 


239 


bearded old chap, with smoked glasses, at his back. 

He had never liked the idea of mingling with a 
crowd, and he liked it still less at the present moment, 
when he had a gem worth over fifty thousand pounds 
in his clothing. Therefore, he kept his fingers in his 
vest pocket and held the stone constantly in his grasp. 
The old man trod upon his heels and poked him in 
the back with an umbrella, while the fat woman leaned 
her weight upon his breast. He was glad, therefore, 
when it came his turn at the window. 

Robert and Sylvia were in no hurry to take the 
train. It still lacked a quarter hour of the leaving 
time, and they spent the interval walking along the 
platform, and watching the people. Robert had an eye 
open for Colby, and was somewhat relieved at not 
seeing him. 

When at last the guard let them into their compart- 
ment, they found but one other occupant; an old fel- 
low, who sat in the further corner, by the window, 
reading. He had a newspaper before his face, so that 
only his gray beard was visible. It struck Robert, 
however, that he was the old chap who had stood im- 
mediately behind him in the line before the booking 
office. 

As the train began to move, Robert glanced up and 
down the platform again for signs of Colby. Nowhere 
was he in evidence, and Robert breathed more freely. 
They were at length upon their way to Paris, they had 
foiled the villain, and the stone was safe. 

As time went on, the old man never once looked up 
from his paper. It seemed as if he were unconscious 
of the presence of the two young people. To all in- 
tents and purposes, it was the same as if they had been 
alone together. It was a delightful thing for Robert 
that he should have Sylvia to himself for so long a 


240 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


time, and he enjoyed her company to the full. He told 
her of the experiences of his work and his travels, and 
she gave him a history of her wanderings with her 
father. His story was interesting and instructive, be- 
cause of the great enterprises with which he had been 
connected. In variety, in stirring events and in thril- 
ling climaxes, however, his tale was eclipsed by the one 
that Sylvia told. Then, gradually they drifted into 
those personal confidences which are the privilege and 
the delight of lovers. 

They had been traveling for an hour, and the train, 
which was approaching Ashford, one of the principal 
stations of the South Eastern Railway, between London 
and Folkestone, was slackening up. Suddenly they 
heard the old man opposite them drop his newspaper, 
and they looked up. He had shed his gray beard and 
his blue glasses, and had become Colby. He was 
leveling a pistol at them, and with it he alternately 
covered Robert and Sylvia. 

‘‘Don’t move,” he commanded, “except as I tell you. 
I see that you are holding hands. Keep them so. 
Now you, Ledyard, you see I’ve found out your name, 
take the diamond out of your right hand vest pocket, 
and hand it over. If you do anything else, if you 
try any funny work. I’ll shoot you both.” 

Robert looked at Sylvia for instructions. 

“Oh, give it to him, Rob!” she cried. “He is a 
desperate man. I know him of old. I know that he 
will do as he says. Robert, please give it to him !” 

Robert reached into his vest pocket, took out a 
small, paper-covered parcel, and handed it to Colby. 
Colby, still leveling the pistol with his right, took the 
parcel with his left hand, and opened it with his fingers. 
The many facets of the stone sparkled under the rays 
of the electric light, in the roof of the car, and a look 


THE BITER BIT 


241 


of satisfied greed and cupidity passed over his face. 
Just then the train came to a stop. Colby placed the 
stone in his pocket, backed toward the car door, still 
leveling the pistol, opened the door, stepped down upon 
the running board, and vanished into the night. 

“Well, the stone is gone,” said Sylvia, with resig- 
nation. “Somehow, I am glad of it. It has brought 
nothing but bad luck ever since Father found it. Father 
was almost killed on account of it, and you have run 
into danger of death a dozen times, because of it. 
Fm glad Colby has it.” 

“But he hasn’t it, Sylvia dearest.”i 

“What do you mean? I saw you give it to him.” 

“That wasn’t the oval diamond. Here is the oval 
diamond.” 

Robert produced the diamond from his trouser 
watch pocket, and handed it to her. 

“Then what was it that you did give him?” asked 

she. 

“That was a very fine rock crystal, cut in the form 
of a brilliant. I picked it up in London this afternoon. 
I thought it might come in handy. I had to look in a 
half dozen shops before I found it. It was a facsimile 
of the Kohinoor, and was half as large again as the 
oval diamond. Colby, though, didn’t know the dif- 
ference. The light isn’t very good here, and the 
crystal did certainly sparkle splendidly. As I under- 
stand it, Colby and his pals have never seen the oval 
diamond, since it was cut. That is what made it so 
easy to fool him.” 

“Rob,” said Sylvia, “you certainly deserve a kiss 
for that.” 


16 


CHAPTER XX 
Trouser Cuffs 

It was before seven o’clock when Sylvia came 
down stairs the next morning, in the hotel at Folke- 
stone. Though she had arisen at such an early hour, 
however, Robert had got ahead of her, and was al- 
ready awaiting her in the hotel foyer. Breakfast 
would not be served until eight-thirty; so they went 
out and took a walk upon the sands. It was a cloudy, 
dark and windy morning, it had been raining, and 
more rain was promised. Save for a few fishermen, 
here and there, who were busy with their boats and 
tackle, they had the beach to themselves. 

‘T am afraid,” said Robert, ‘‘that we are going to 
have a stormy passage. Are you ever sea sick?” 

“The idea!” exclaimed Sylvia, contemptuously, “I 
am never sea sick. I want you to know that I am 
a born sailor. What I like is 

“A wet sheet, a flowing sea. 

And a wind that follows fast.” 

“I don’t know that I have quoted it exactly right, 
but that is the way I feel.” 

Sylvia now commenced to look backward over her 
shoulder, in a preoccupied manner. 

“What are you looking for?” asked Robert. 

“I think that there is a man following us. It 
seemed to me as if he dodged behind that sand dune.” 

Robert went back and walked around the dune. 

“There is no one there,” said he, as he rejoined 

her. 

“Nevertheless, I am sure I saw some one.” 

242 


TROUSER CUFFS 


243 


“Whom do you suspect of following us?” 

“It may be Colby. I didn’t get a good look at him. 
It wouldn’t surprise me, though, if it were Saunders, 
Mathews or Peterson.” 

“It would surprise me a whole lot. Something 
tells me that Colby’s three pals are still in London. 
However, Colby may have come on to Folkestone by 
a later train.” 

“Then there are the Dennisons. How do you 
know that they are not also upon our track?” 

“I have a sort of conviction that they, too, are in 
London.” 

“What do you suppose Colby did after he left us?” 

“He probably went to some convenient place, and 
examined his treasure. When he looked at the stone 
by a good light, and at his leisure, he saw that it was 
a fake.” 

“What do you think he did then?” 

“In the first place, he must have sworn volubly and 
earnestly. Then probably he looked up the next train 
for Folkestone.” 

“Rob, I really think that you should provide your- 
self with a pistol. You are not safe without one.” 

“Nonsense, Sylvia. I hate the things. What 
would I do with it if I had one? I could never bring 
myself to shoot a person, anyway. I might just as 
well have a painted wooden one, for all the good it 
would do.” 

“Nevertheless, I think you should get one,” said 
Sylvia, decisively. 

At twelve o’clock noon they sailed for Boulogne 
on the good packet Victoria. It was raining, the wind 
had increased to a half gale, and the promenade deck 
of the ship was deserted. Robert and Sylvia, though, 
had found a sheltered nook, in the stern of the vessel. 


244 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


in the lee of the after cabin, and found the situation 
most comfortable and satisfactory. The wind roared, 
the rain beat upon the planks, the ship tossed, and the 
waves broke over the bow and sluiced along the deck 
and through the scuppers. But to these things they 
gave no heed. They were alike oblivious of time and 
the elements. Robert had secured a cabin for Sylvia; 
for well he knew that a dressing bureau and a looking 
glass never come amiss to a handsome girl. Besides, 
she might become sea-sick, and would want, perhaps, 
to lie down. 

“Sylvia,” said he, after they had been out an hour, 
“the boat is pitching horribly. How about the mal de 
merf Don’t you feel it the least little bit?” 

Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes had a dancing light 
in them, and he might have known better. 

“I must say, Rob, that I have a sort of a queer 
sensation. It came upon me some time ago.” 

“There, I knew it. You must go to your cabin 
and lie down.” 

She laughed merrily. 

“It isn’t what you suppose. Thq fact is that I am 
ravenously hungry. That’s all that ails me.” 

“I will go down to the dining saloon and get you 
some sandwiches and a cup of tea.” 

“Very well, but be sure to get something for your- 
self, too.” 

Robert went to the forward companionway and 
descended to the dining-saloon. Here he found a 
steward, and gave his order. The steward went away, 
and was absent a very long time. Presently, another 
steward came up to Robert. 

“Sir,” said he, “the lady who is with you has 
gone to her cabin, and wishes to see you there at once.” 

Apprehensive that something untoward had hap- 


TROUSER CUFFS 


245 


pened, Robert immediately started toward her cabin. 
The cabins were abaft the dining-room, and upon the 
same deck. He passed through a narrow, interminable 
passage, flanked upon both sides by cabin doors; then 
he entered a transverse passage, and going to the 
end of it, next the skin of the boat, he rapped upon 
Sylvia’s door. Behind him there was another cabin, 
the door of which stood half open. Suddenly, and 
without warning, he received a blow on the back of 
the head, which made him see stars, and then sink 
into oblivion. 

When he came to himself, he was lying upon the 
floor of the passageway. He raised himself to a sitting 
posture, and looked dazedly about him. He had a 
sensation of nausea, and his head felt the size of a 
barrel. He put his hand to the back of it. There was 
a lump there the size of a pigeon’s egg, and his hand 
came away with a sticky substance upon it. He now 
managed to gain his feet; but was forced to stand 
motionless for quite a time, and to support himself by 
clutching the casing of the open door. He knew in- 
stinctively what had happened. 

“Colby has got me this time,” thought he, “and 
the diamond is gone.” 

Yet he put off searching his watch pocket as long 
as possible, that he might postpone the evil moment. 
When at last he did essay it, his conviction became a 
certainty; the stone hact been taken from him. 

He now went into the unoccupied cabin, washed 
and brushed himself, and made himself otherwise pre- 
sentable. Then he returned to the dining saloon, got 
the tray of eatables from the steward, and carried it 
to Sylvia, whom he found upon the upper deck, in the 
very spot where he had left her. 

“You have been gone an awful time,” exclaimed she. 


246 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


‘Tt is twenty-five minutes since you went. I have 
been frightfully lonely without you.’’ 

“Sylvia,” said he, after he had given her time to 
eat and drink, “something terrible has happened. I 
hardly know how to tell you about it.” 

“You haven’t seen another girl whom you like 
better than you like me?” 

“Sylvia, don’t talk nonsense. You know better 
than that.” 

“I was thinking of the most terrible thing possible. 
If it isn’t that it can’t be so very awful.” 

“Sylvia, I have lost the diamond. I have had it 
stolen from me.” 

Robert then gave her a narrative of what had hap- 
pened. 

“Rob,” said she, pushing him down into a chair, 
“don’t you move until I come back.” 

Saying this she ran toward the ladies’ saloon, and 
vanished through the doorway. Presently, she re- 
turned, bringing with her a basin of water, a glass of 
liquid and a towel. She gave him the glass to drink, 
then she tenderly bathed his head, and dried it. 

“But the diamond, Sylvia,” exclaimed he; “you 
don’t seem to realize that it is gone.” 

“Bother the diamond. I hate it. I’m glad it is 
gone. It has almost caused the death of the two peo- 
ple I love most in the world. I never want to see it 
again.” 

“Who are those two people? Your father, of 
course, is one of them. Who is the other?” 

“You, of course, you goose.” 

Then you do love me, and you will marry me?” 

“Of course I do, and of course I will. You might 
have known it long ago. You men are so stupid. 
Girls are a deal smarter about such things. I knew 


TROUSER CUFFS 


247 


you loved me, before you ever said so, and you said so, 
if you remember, at quite an early date in our ac- 
quaintance.” 

“Then we are really to be married, Sylvia, dear- 
est? I can’t believe it.” 

“Why can’t you believe it? You couldn’t keep me 
from marrying you. And Rob, I will make you a 
good wife, you may depend upon it.” 

There is no need to set down what happened at that 
supreme moment. After a while, Robert arose. 

“What are you going to do?” demanded Sylvia. 

“I am going to the captain or the purser, and tell 
them of the robbery. I don’t intend that Colby shall 
get off the ship with the diamond.” 

“There are things more important than that. Still, 
if you are determined upon it, you may go. You must 
promise me, though, to keep away from Colby. You 
must have nothing to do with him.” 

Robert gave her the promise she demanded, and set 
out to find the captain or the purser. The cabins of 
these two officers were on the fore part of the prom- 
enade deck, immediately aft of the bridge. To reach 
them by the open deck, he would have to breast a 
thirty-mile wind, for over two hundred feet. In order 
to save his strength as much as possible, and in order 
to save time, he decided to make his way forward 
under cover as far as he might. He, therefore, entered 
the ladies’ saloon, and passing through it, came into 
the main saloon, a place given over to reading, writing, 
card playing and the like. 

Passing through among the groups of people there 
assembled, he came to the forward door, and was about 
to make his exit, when he caught sight of something 
through one of the starboard windows, which caused 
him to pause. There was a man standing just outside 


248 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


of the window. The shade of the window was half 
drawn down, so that Robert had a view of only a small 
part of his person. There was something about that 
part, however, that seemed familiar to him. He went 
over, and kneeling upon the cushioned locker, peered 
cautiously through the open space beneath the shade. 
Colby was standing there, in a sort of corner, formed 
by one of the ship’s funnels, and the walls of the cabin, 
and he was looking at some object, which he held in 
his hand. Robert went to the door of the saloon, 
opened it noiselessly, stepped lightly around the corner 
of the cabin, and sprang at Colby’s throat. Colby 
thrust the small object, which he held, toward his 
pocket, and the men locked their arms about each other. 

Robert now began to halloo and shout, and in a 
minute several deck hands and two of the ship’s of- 
ficers, the first and the third, came running to the scene 
of the encounter. 

‘‘This man is a murderer,” cried Robert. “I 
charge him with the murder of a man in London last 
night. I can prove it. I saw it done. Besides that, 
he has just robbed me of a very valuable diamond, the 
property of the lady with whom I am traveling. He 
has the diamond about him now.” 

“Get hold of him, and search him,” commanded 
the first officer. 

Two of the deck hands seized Colby, and another 
set about searching his clothing systematically. When 
the searcher had pulled all his pockets inside out, and 
had pinched and prodded every part of his clothing 
and of his skin, he looked up. 

“’Ere’s all I found,” said he. 

He exhibited a watch, a pocket book, some silver, 
a bunch of keys and several other articles which go to 
fill a man’s pockets; but no diamond. 


TROUSER CUFFS 


249 


Colby seemed as nonplussed as anybody. He gazed 
about the deck, as if he might have dropped the stone 
during the struggle. 

‘‘He had it in his hand when I caught him,” cried 
Robert. “He has probably dropped it, and it has 
rolled into some hole. I will give twenty pounds to 
the man who finds it.” 

Several other deck hands had now come up, and 
as many as could be spared from the prisoner’s guard, 
commenced to search all parts of the deck in the 
vicinity. 

“Take the man aft to the strong room,” now com- 
manded the first officer, “iron him and lock him up.” 

He turned to Robert. 

“We will have to take him back to Folkestone on 
the return boat,” said he. “The offences were com- 
mitted upon British soil and upon a British ship; so 
he belongs back there. Leave your address with me, 
and I will notify you of the date of his examination, 
so that you can prefer charges.” 

Two men now took Colby aft. When they had 
led him along about fifty feet, he suddenly broke away 
from them, sprang to the rail, and leaped into the sea. 
The cry of “man overboard” was raised at once, the 
engines of the ship were reversed, and a boat was 
lowered; but Colby was never found. 

“You broke your promise,” said Sylvia to Robert, 
when she heard of Colby’s arrest and suicide. “You 
were not to go near him, or have anything to do with 
him. I am very, very angry with you.” 

She tried to look very stern and unforgiving, but 
failed miserably. The love light would steal into her 
eyes, and a tender smile would hover upon her lips.^ 

At two-thirty they arrived at Boulogne, and at nine 
o’clock that evening they were sitting in the reception 


250 


THE OVAL DIAMOND 


room of the Hotel D’Angleterre, waiting for Sylvia’s 
father to come down stairs. Robert was thinking how 
best and how most diplomatically he could tell John 
Daunt the story of the loss of the diamond. Just then, 
he noticed that the hem or cuff of one leg of his 
trousers was bulging outward in a shabby and dis- 
graceful manner. He reached down and tried to press 
the hem flat. He couldn’t do it, there was something 
inside of the cuff. He put his fingers in to find out 
what that something was, and pulled forth the oval 
diamond. Colby instead of shoving it into his pocket, 
had dropped it, and it had lodged in the hem of Robert’s 
trousers. Colby then with the gallows staring him in 
the face, and the diamond lost forever, had jumped 
into the sea. 

This is about all there is of the story. John Daunt 
delivered the diamond, next day, to his customer, and 
received a draft for fifty-two thousand pounds. Robert 
and Sylvia were married a few weeks later, and it is 
almost unnecessary to add that they have lived a 
perfectly happy life ever since. 


Alraschid in Petticoates 

Being an account of certaine nocturnal 
excursions made by Queen Elizabeth of 
England into the citie of London, after the 
manner of Haroun Alraschid, Caliph of 
Bagdad ; she being accompanied therein by 
your humble servant, Roland Drake, some- 
time Lieutenant of the Yeomen of the 
Guard. 


Alraschid in Petticoates 


THE ADVENTURE OF THE 
CHANGED COFFINS 

It was the next nighte after the Yule Tide when 
her Christian Grace again summoned me to goe forth 
with her upon one of these her adventures. When I 
arrived at the palace of Whitehall, where she then 
abode, I found with the Queen Sir Walter Raleigh 
and soe I knewe that he was to accompany us upon that 
nighte’s expedition. The Queen, who was still of a 
merry humor asked of Sir Walter : 

“Where think ye that we may come upon some 
matter of entertainment this nighte?” 

And Sir Walter after pondering for some moments, 
answered thus : 

“Your Royal Highnesse doth knowe full well that, 
notwithstanding the Jews have been banished from 
this your Kingdom for more than three hundred years, 
yet of late many of this accursed and abominable race 
have crept back quietly and privily and are now settled 
in the street of the Crutched Friars, in the old Jewry, 
and in other parts of that same neighborhood. It is 
said that there be fully a thousand of these foul unbe- 
lievers in London town at this present day and alsoe 
that they maintain their temples, synagogues and what 
not in defiance of your Majesty’s most wise and Chris- 
tian laws. It hath always been held that a Jew is fit 
subject for all manner of sport and amusement. When 
I gaze upon a Jew, there is something in the look of 

252 


THE CHANGED COFFINS 


253 


his smug face with its gross mouth and bird-like beak, 
in the hunch of his shoulders and in the movement of 
his hands, which causeth within me a fierce desire to 
smite him upon the cheek, to chase him with stones and 
to harry him \vdth dogs. Did not the good God find it 
necessary to give unto Moses laws for the government 
of this foul race such as noe nation before or since hath 
needed? Were not the Jews the chosen people because 
of the fact that of all the people in the world they were 
the most lothly and most in need of salvation ? There- 
fore is it that the hunting of the Jew is of all sport the 
most righteous and the most delightsome? Soe I pray 
your Grace that we goe this nighte into the street of 
the old Jewry and thereabouts, and it will goe hard with 
us an we find not entertainment a plenty in the worry- 
ing of some of these gentry. 

The Queen consenting to what Sir Walter pro- 
posed, we cloathed ourselves well with large cloaks 
on account of the cold and taking boat we dropped 
down with the tide to Rotherhithe. Thence we made 
our way on foot to Mark Lane and when we had come 
as far as the Boar’s Head Tavern, her Majesty said : 

‘‘Would that we mighte now quickly come upon 
some sweet, rare, humorous adventure.” 

“If I mistake not,” said Sir Walter, “here cometh 
something which may afford us matter of good sport.” 

Even as he spoke there came down the lane what 
seemed a funeral procession, four stout knaves bearing 
a coffin upon a bier, while before them walked three 
men with black beards and huge noses. 

“May I be flayed alive,” said Sir Walter. “If 
these be not Hebrews. It is the chaunce of a lifetime, 
and a Jew-baiting hath ever had the favor of God. 
What doth your Grace say to the matter and how far 
may we goe in the businesse?” 


^54 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


“Ye may goe even unto Hades and back, soe long 
as there is good matter of laughter and the jest hath a 
fair and amusinge flavor.” 

Now when the funeral cortege arrived in front of 
the Tavern, it came to a stop and the three Hebrews 
argued among themselves for a moment as to which 
of them should pay for a pint of strong liquors. Finally 
one of them tossed a coin into the air and the decision 
being thus come to, the three went into the Tavern, 
leaving the porters with the body of the deceased. 

“It beseemeth me,” said Sir Walter, “that we are 
hard upon the heels of an adventure such as I spake 
of, but I knowe not, for the nonce, what peculiar! form 
the thing will take.” 

“My worthy fellows,” said he, going over and ac- 
costing the stout knaves who stood by the bier, “it is 
a cold nighte for ye to be waiting here while these Jews 
your masters are warming their gullets with goode 
liquor in the ordinary of the Tavern, It beseemeth 
me a scurvy thing that they be not willing to pay alsoe 
your scot.” 

“Aye, most worshipful master, that it be,” answered 
one of the rogues, “but what would ye of such foul, 
hook nosed dogs?” 

“I prythee, tell me, goode fellow, the name of this 
deceased person and alsoe whither ye doe take the 
corpse this nighte?” 

“His name, as we have heard, worshipful master, 
is Moses the son of Manasses and we doe take the body 
to a meeting-place or synagogue of the Jews in the 
street of the old Jewry, where presently will be held 
such funeral rites as is the custom among this accursed 
race.” 

“I thank ye, goode fellows, for the courtesy with 
which ye have answered. Here is a shilling and yonder 


THE CHANGED COFFINS 


255 


across the lane and a trifle farther on is another tavern. 
Goe ye quickly and make merry while I stand guard 
over the remains, soe that, if the Hebrews come forth 
before ye, I may excuse ye of what blame they may 
seek to putte upon ye.” 

The four rogues took the coin joyously and went 
straightway to the tavern which Sir Walter had pointed 
out. 

“The adventure of which I spake,” said Sir Walter, 
“cometh amain, but I see it as yet only dimly and as 
it were in a cloud.” 

Presently there came up the lane from the other 
direction four prentices with aprons, bearing another 
coffin between them upon staves. 

“Beshrew me,” exclaimed the Queen, “for the 
nonce there seemeth to be a great and pressing activity 
in this businesse.” 

When the four prentices came up to us. Sir Walter 
addressed them : 

“My good prentices, what have ye in yonder box?” 

“Worshipful sir,” answered one of them, “what 
should we have in a coffin but a body?” 

“And whose body may it be?” 

“Ha, ha,” laughed the same fellow, “Ye would not 
believe it, but we have in the coffin the carcass of a 
fine yearling pig.” 

“What,” cried Sir Walter, “how may that well 
be?” 

“Well, worshipful sir,” answered the same fellow 
who had before spoken, “ye see it was this way; Dickon 
here and I are prentices of one Master Nicholas Grubb, 
a butcher of Aldgate and these other two varlets are 
prentices of Master Hezekiah Mole, who hath a joiner’s 
shop hard by. Now it chaunced this day that Master 
Grubb did sell this pig to one Master Stowe, who liveth 


256 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


in the Minories and at the same time it happened that 
Master Mole was commanded to send this coffin to the 
house of one Talbot in the Fleet Street. Soe we four, 
who are old companions, set forth this nighte together 
and, when we were out of sighte of the shops of our 
masters, we did putte the pig in the coffin, that our 
task mighte be the more quickly and lightly done.” 

'‘Ha,” exclaimed Sir Walter, "say ye soe? For 
the love of heaven take off the lid of the box, that we 
may look for ourselves, for never, I ween, hath man 
seen the like of this thing before.” 

There was a wide porch with steps in front of the 
Boar’s Head Tavern, and upon this porch the prentices 
placed the coffin. 

"It is not necessary, worshipful Master,” said the 
prentice, "to take off the lid, as there is a small glass 
in the top of it, near the hedde, through which ye may 
see that we speke sooth.” 

We looked through the glass in the lid but could 
see naught else but the pig’s snout, which was pressed 
against the under side of the glass. 

Thereupon Sir Walter prevailed upon the prentices 
soe that they unscrewed the screws which held the lid 
and took it off, and behold ! they had spoken truly and 
the coffin contained a fine fat pink and white yearling 
pig, lying upon his back with his snout in the air and 
his forelegs over his breast as though in prayer. 

When they had again screwed down the lid. Sir 
Walter handed a shilling to the prentice who had 
spoken and said quickly: 

"I see that ye are four good and honest rogues and 
that ye have spoken the truth. Take this shilling and 
goe into the Tavern and make merry. Meanwhile I 
will see to it that the coffin and its contents are well 
taken care of.” 


THE CHANGED COFFINS 


257 

The four prentices took the coin and went joyously 
into the Tavern and Sir Walter at once said: 

“The Lord hath in sooth given us this chaunce. An 
occasion such as this cometh but once in the life of a 
man, and it were a most foul and wicked sin should 
we not make use of it. As our friend Will Shake- 
speare saith : 

“ ‘There comes a tide in the affairs of men which 
taken at the flood leads on to fortune.’ This is our 
tide. This is our opportunity, which hath been sent 
us by the good God and none other.” 

“But,” said I, “what mean ye. Sir Walter, by this 
opportunity and this occasion? I see none of such 
moment and importance as ye doe speke of.” 

“And yet, thou dolt, ’tis as plain as is the nose upon 
thy face. It stares thee in the eyes, it even spekes 
aloud. Here, help me with this coffin of the Jew 
Moses, the son of Manasses, there, place it upon the 
porch soe. Now lift the pig carefully, and place him 
upon the bier soe. The thing is done and Master pig 
and Master Moses have changed places. Ye will 
notice alsoe that the coffins are as alike as two peas.” 

Just at this moment the four porters who had gone 
into the tavern down the lane came out of the door 
and crossing to the Boar’s Head prepared to take up 
the bier. A moment later the three Jews issued forth 
and the funeral procession passed on up the lane toward 
the street of the Crutched Friars. 

Her Christian Majesty was grievously shaken by a 
rude fit of merriment, soe' that she was fain to cling 
to Sir Walter for support. 

“If I rede the matter rightly,” said Sir Walter, “we 
will doe well to follow the Jews to the synagogue. As 
for the four prentices and the body of Moses the son 
of Manasses, though it teareth my heart to part with 

17 


258 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


them, yet doth it beseem me that there shall be more 
sport in this direction.” 

Thereupon we followed the bier down the lane, 
though we were filled with such wild, unholy and 
tumultuous joy that we were fain to cling to each 
other for support. When we had passed out of Mark 
Lane and through the street of the Crutched Friars, 
we came to the old Jewry and perceiving that the 
funeral party had stopped at a house half way down 
the street, we made haste to come up with them, soe 
that we entered the house almost upon their heels. 

It was a long, low building, dimly lighted and as 
we were enveloped in our cloaks we easily passed in 
unchallenged by those who stood at the entrance and 
tooke our places at one side of the door, in the back 
end of the room. The synagogue had three rows of 
benches, between which there were two passageways 
leading from the entrance to the desk of the rabbi and' 
the tabernacle, which stood against the wall behind it. 

The bier was set upon the floor in front of the 
Rabbi’s desk and now the faithful commenced to come 
into the meeting house by twos and threes — young 
Jews, sleek and well fed, or gaunt and wild-eyed, and 
old Jews, with gray beards to the girdle and noses 
which stood out before them like the cutwater of ships. 

When the house was full, the Rabbi, a patriarche, 
with a beak like that of the pelican, stood up behind 
the desk and, when all the congregation had alsoe 
arisen and had putte their hats upon their heddes, the 
Rabbi made a short prayer, in which he did ask that 
the deceased be taken to Abraham’s bosom. 

“Amen,” said Sir Walter in a low voice, “and 
may I be there to see.” 

“Brethren,” said the Rabbi, “we be assembled) here 
to perform the last holy rites over the body of our be- 


THE CHANGED COFFINS 


259 


loved friend and brother, Moses the Son of Manasses, 
the son of Nathan, the son of Aminadeb, the son of 
Solomon, the son of Samuel, the son of Jacob, the son 
of Levi, the son of Simeon, the son of Ephraim, the 
son of Judah.” 

“Beshrew me,” interrupted Sir Walter, “but this 
boar hath a most astounding pedigree.” 

Now the Rabbi rede certaine verses from the book 
of Job and from the Psalms and Proverbs. 

“He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down; 
he fleeth alsoe as a shadow, and continueth not.” 

“The eye alsoe which saw him,” said Sir Walter, 
“shall see him no more; neither shall his place any more 
behold him.” 

“He hath had clean hands and a pure heart,” said 
the Rabbi, “He hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, 
nor sworn deceitfully.” 

“I will wager that he hath not,” said Sir Walter. 

“He hath kept the feast days and the fast days,” 
said the Rabbi. 

“Ii wot well that he hath kept the feast days,” said 
Sir Walter, “but it doth not seem that he. hath kept 
many fast days.” 

“But for these unregenerate and wicked gentiles,” 
continued the Rabbi, “the wrath of God shall come 
upon them, and he shall slay the fattest of them, and 
he shall smite all the first born of Egypt; the chief of 
their strength in the tabernacle of Ham.” 

“When he speketh of Ham,” said Sir Walter, “he 
doth come uncommonly nigh the mark.” 

When the preacher had come to an end, a song was 
chaunted by the congregation, and the song was part 
of the song of Solomon.” 

“My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among 
ten thousand. His locks are bushy and black as the 


26 o 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


raven, his eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers 
of waters; his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling 
myrrh; his hands are as gold rings set with the beryl/' 

“Ods Zooks," exclaimed Sir Walter, ‘‘they omitted 
the most important part of it. ‘His belly is as bright 
as ivory, his legs are as pillars of marble, his neck is as 
a tower of ivory, and his nose is as the tower of 
Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus.’ ’’ 

By which it will be seen that Sir Walter was most 
excellently well versed in the scripture. 

The rabbi now drew back the red veil or curtain 
from in front of the tabernacle and disclosed to our 
view the ark of the tabernacle resting upon a shelf 
against the wall. Then taking the ark, which was 
like the Noah’s ark which is a toy for children, but 
somewhat larger, he gave it to four young men who 
went to bear it down the passage toward the entrance. 
Then alsoe the four porters took up the bier with the 
body of the soi-disant Moses, the son of Mansasses, 
and followed the ark. And the procession passed 
down one of the passages and up the other, until they 
had again reached the altar. And the Hebrews there 
present did look through the glass in the lid of the 
coffin as it passed them. 

“Father Abraham,’’ said a hag of seventy, with a 
black wig, “he doth in sooth look natural.’’ 

“Nay,’’ said another, “I but saw the very end of 
his nose. It did seem to me, nathlesse, that I would 
have known it among a thousand.’’ 

When the ark was again placed in the tabernacle, 
and the bier was alsoe again set upon the floor in front 
of the altar, the Rabbi said : 

“The lid will now be taken from the coffin that the 
family of the deceased may look for the last time upon 
the body.’’ 


THE CHANGED COFFINS 


261 


About two score Jews gathered around the casket, 
while the lid was being unscrewed. When at last it 
was taken off, there was perfect silence for the space 
of several moments. Then hands were flung up into 
the air, with the palms upward and there arose a ter- 
rible and mighty shout and such divers imprecations, 
shrieks and wailings as were heard aforetime at the 
tower of Babel. 

“Oh, most accursed flesh, oh most abominable and 
unclean beast; may they who have done this thing be 
thrown into the bottomless pit of hell, may Beelzebub 
seize upon them with red hot pincers. By the God of 
Abraham and the God of Jacob and the God of Isaac, 
we will smite them as with a whirlwind for their 
wickednesse.” 

Now in the synagogue, as we learned later, there 
were two factions, and one faction was that of Manas- 
ses the father of Moses, of Nathan, his grandfather 
and their kindred, and the other faction was that of 
Isaac and of Kush and of Habakuk and of their kin- 
dred, and these two factions were at enmity one with 
the other. Soe now the faction of Kush and of Isaac 
and of Habakuk, when they saw what had happened, 
made merriment of the matter, with many taunts, gibes 
and jeers. Thereupon Manasses and Nathan and their 
kindred fell upon them with their* staffs and with what 
other weapons came to their hands, soe that imme- 
diately there was a dire uproar and a terrible, inextric- 
able, fierce combat, in which innumerable foul male- 
dictions, broken heddes and bodily bruises were given 
and received, and the body of the false Moses, snatched 
from the coffin, was buffeted hither and thither over 
the heddes of the combatants. 

At the commencement of the fray, we withdrew 
from the room and watched the battle from the outside 


262 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


of the door, and it was well that we did soe, for sud- 
denly, from such a stress of leaping and crowding and 
of falling bodies, the whole floor gave way, and full 
five score of Hebrews, frothing at the mouth, were 
precipitated four or five cubits down into the cellar 
below, and as we looked down, we beheld a seething 
mass of long whiskers and of hands held palms upper- 
most and of beaklike noses innumerable. 

At that moment came the watch, soe we departed 
without further delay, and soe back once more to the 
palace of Whitehall, and her Gracious Majesty lay in 
bed a week and a day, because of the great lassitude 
which had come to her from much and immoderate 
laughter. 


THE ADVENTURE OF THE 
FORTUNE TELLER 

One day at the Queen’s palace at Greenwich there 
were present her Majesty, three of her council, the 
Earls of Leiscester and Sussex and Sir Christopher 
Hatton, the French Ambassador, Castlenau, a French 
gentleman by name of Marchaumont, Sir Walter 
Raleigh and myself. 

And Sir Walter did ask the Queen to appoint him 
to the command of three ships which had been lately 
built at Deptford, the Valiant, the Hawk and the 
Arrow, and to give him a commission to sail the high 
seas in search of Spanish galleons. 

Her Grace, however, putte off his request for the 
moment, saying that she would refer the matter to the 
council, at which Sir Walter was vexed, as I could 
see, though he made to putte on a look of contentment. 

The French Ambassador now spoke to her Grace 
of a famous soothsayer and fortune-teller, one Madam 
Montmorency, who had lately come to London town, 
and said much of her wondrous knowledge of events, 
past, present and to come. 

'T have heard of this lady,” said Sir Walter, ‘'and 
to Speke truly, I have myself paid her a visit and ques- 
tioned her about certaine things of which I wished to 
knowe. All that Monsieur Castelnau has said in her 
regard is true, for she doth have knowledge of what 
hath happened and what will happen like the Devil 
himself. Would that your Grace mighte goe incog to 
this lady, for thereby your Grace would truly derive 
both profit and amusement.” 


263 


264 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

‘‘Sir Walter,” answered her Majesty, ''ye speke 
well and I am much a minded to try this new sooth 
sayer. It is ten years agone since I spoke with one of 
these gentry, but he was a lying knave and prophesied 
me a husband, whereas ye see that I am still without 
one.” 

"But it is your Grace’s fault,” cried Sir Walter, 
"your Grace knowes full well where your Grace mighte 
come by one should your Grace be soe minded.” 

"But what would ye?” answered the Queen. 
"Here for twenty years and more I have been passion- 
ately beloved and sought in marriage by the marriage- 
able princes of all the reigning houses in Europe. 
For my people’s sake and for the goode of my country, 
I cannot now take for a husband a mere gentleman of 
England. Were it not soe I knowe full well to whom 
I should turn.” With this she cast a languishing look 
at Sir Walter and then continued : 

"As I remarked to ye before, I would fain have 
speech with this famous fortune-teller. Therefore, 
Sir Walter, I prythee, conduct me this nighte to her 
abode, and we will see what she doth prophecy both 
in regard to husbands and alsoe as to other matters.” 

"Nay,” replied Sir Walter, "I have already seen the 
lady, and she doth knowe me full well, both by sight 
and reputation, therefore it would not be wise for me 
to be seen by her with your Grace, since she mighte 
putte two and two together and knowe that she had for 
a client the Queen of England which, as I opine, your 
Grace would not wish. I prythee, therefore, take with 
your Grace Master Roland here and one of your maids, 
which will be sufficient, and when your Grace hath 
finished with the soothsayer, I will meet your Grace at 
the outer door. There hath lately been brought over 
from France a new game or play entituled 'Rolling the 


THE FORTUNE TELLER 


265 


little ball.’ This game is established in a house near 
by that of Madam Montmorency and it would please 
me to have your Grace goe with me to this house and 
even to take a hand at the game, which your Grace 
may well do without the knowledge of it coming to 
the public.” 

“Why not,” said her Majesty, “we mighte as well 
make a nighte of it while we are about it, and there is 
an old saying that one mighte as well be hung for a 
sheep as a lamb. We will goe at eight of the clock 
this nighte, therefore, do not fail to meet me at the 
outer door of the fortune-teller’s house.” 

It being thus arranged, we tooke the Queen’s barge 
at about half after seven that evening and went to the 
stairs at Billingsgate and thence to the street of the 
Lombards, where Madam Montmorency lodged, and 
there were of the company her Majesty, Anne Bridges 
her maid of honor, of whom, perchance, I have before 
spoken, and myself. When we had come into the 
house we were admitted into a fine large chamber, 
hung around with heavy tapestries of red silk. Upon 
the floor were spread thick, soft rugs or carpets of 
Eastern make and a few tapers lighted up the room 
dimly, soe that all seemed mysterious and awesome. 
At one side of the apartment there was a small, dark- 
ened alcove, and in it there sat at a table Madame 
Montmorency, a woman of sixty years of age or more, 
white-haired and wrinkled and of a witchlike and 
heathenish look and costume. 

Her Grace now went in and sat down with the 
soothsayer and told her wherefore she had come. 

“Do you wish to knowe of the past, present or 
future?” asked Madame Montmorency in a voice which 
was like to that of a man. 

“Tell me first of the past,” answered the Queen. 


266 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


The fortune-teller tooke from the table a large 
crystal, as big as a man’s fist, and gazed into it. 

'T see,” said she, “that ye are a woman with a past, 
all right, all right, but why ye should wish to recall it, 
it being as it is, I do not perceive.” 

“Sirrah!” exclaimed her Majesty. “Is it thus that 
ye abuse your customers? What mean ye by these 
injurious words?” 

“I mean nothing, my lady. I but speke forth what 
I see in the crystal. I will first tell ye your age and 
the year in which your Ladyship was born.” 

“Nay, madame, I knowe full well my age and need 
not to be told of it.” 

“I see,” continued the soothsayer, “that both your 
father and mother are deceased and therefore that ye 
are an orphan.” 

“What foolish thing is this?” cried her Grace, “I 
pay not goode money to hear such paltry trash. Can 
ye not tell me something of moment?” 

“Patience, my Lady. Here is something which 
mayhap ye may like better. I see that during your life 
ye have had a multitude of lovers.” 

“Ha,” exclaimed her Majesty. “That is some- 
thing to the point. Now tell me if ye can, whether 
they did love me truly and for myself alone.” 

“They all loved the ground that ye did tread upon. 
Perchance, at the time, ye were treading upon your 
own estate, but this I knowe not.” 

“Enough, my goode woman, of these scurvy and 
ill-timed jests. Furthermore ye speke in generalities 
and I would that ye should come to particulars. Tell 
me something about one or other of these many lovers.” 

“Aye, my lady. I see now a tall and handsome 
gentleman, bearded and moustachioed and with blue 
eyes. Between him and you for more than a score of 


THE FORTUNE TELLER 


267 

years, there have been many love passages. In sooth, 
ye would have married him, and it had not been for 
one thing.” 

“And what was that?” asked her Grace. 

“Why the rogue was already married to another 
woman. I see, however, that one day, very conven- 
iently, she fell down-stairs and brake her neck.” 

“That will do,” said her Majesty. “I do not care 
to hear further of the past. Tell me now I prythee 
something of the present.” 

“The crystal tells me,” said Madame Montmorency, 
“that the same gentleman of whom I spake is still 
faithful to ye, by which I mean that he is as faithful as 
he ever was. He is, however, grown uncommon 
portly, hath a red face and as a lover is somewhat 
shopworn. Ha, I perceive now that ye have another 
lover, a fine, handsome, gallant gentleman. He hath 
this very day asked a favour of ye, which ye hesitate to 
grant. Of all your sweethearts he doth love ye the 
most devotedly and truly. He thinks only of your 
well being and would count his life as naught in your 
service.” 

“I feel that ye speke truly. Madam, and I think that 
I knowe the man. This is joyous news and is alone 
worth the price of admission. I would fain now hear 
ye tell somewhat of the future.” 

The fortune-teller now tooke a pack of cards and 
began to lay them one by one upwards upon the table. 

“The cards tell me,” said she at last, “that ye will 
shortly meet a tall, well favoured and courteous gentle- 
man, yellow-bearded and brown-eyed, who will love ye 
most dearly. Ah, I see now that he is the same gentle- 
man who did ask the favour of ye this day. I alsoe 
see that ye will grant him that which he asks and that 
the doing of it will much increase your Ladyship’s 


268 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


prosperity and well being. After that, a blonde woman 
will cross your path.” 

“She will cross it but once,” said her Majesty. 

“Ye will then come into a situation of great peril, 
where ye will be in danger of your life. 

“Soon thereafter ye will encounter a dark man. 
Haveing then gone up somewhat in the world, ye will 
have a quarrel with a red-headed man, shortly after 
which ye will come into possession of a large sum of 
money.” 

“And is that all?” asked her Grace. 

“That is all, your Ladyship. Two crowns, please.” 

The Queen haveing with much grumbling paid the 
two crowns, we left the house and Sir Walter, as 
agreed, met us upon the steps. Her Grace told him 
of the strange prophecy which had been given her. 

“The first item of it hath already come true,” con- 
tinued her Grace, giving Sir Walter a simpering look, 
“for have I not at this very moment met the tall, well- 
favoured, courteous gentleman of whom she spake.” 

“Aye,” said Sir Walter,” and if I mistake not, here 
cometh the blonde lady who is to cross your Majesty’s 
path.” 

It was even so, for as he spoke, a masked lady, 
light complectioned and with yellowish hair, came along 
the street, accompanied by two link boys and crossing 
the way in front of her Grace and Sir Walter, entered 
the door of the soothsayer. 

“She hath the appearance of the Countess of Sey- 
mour,” said Sir Walter, “and I doubt me not, she goes 
to ask if there be a chaunce of the old man’s dying, that 
she may marry young Oxford.” 

We now tooke our way to the street of the White- 
friars, to visit the gaming house of which Sir Walter 
had spoken to the Queen, and when we had comei into 


THE FORTUNE TELLER 


269 


the street and were passing a place where a deep cellar 
was being dug, her Majesty made a misstep and would 
have fallen twelve feet or more into the hole, had not 
Sir Walter swiftly stretched forth his arm and caught 
her by the waist. 

“Ha,” exclaimed he, “said not Madame Montmor- 
ency that, after the blonde woman had crossed your 
Grace’s path, your Grace would come into a situation 
of great peril? Truly, her prophecy doth work out 
exactly and to the smallest item.” 

“Aye, I do begin to think that there is something 
in it,” answered the Queen. 

When we were come to the house. Sir Walter 
rapped upon the door and at once a small, round panel 
was opened and someone within putte his eye to the 
hole and inspected us. Sir Walter made some secret 
sign, at which the door was at once opened by a most 
grotesque-looking negro whose skin was as black as 
the ace of spades. 

“Soon thereafter I was to encounter a dark man,” 
exclaimed her Grace. “This woman should be a witch 
indeed to foretell all things in advance as she hath 
done.” 

We now proceeded to mount three flights of stairs 
and when we were almost at the top. Sir Walter spoke : 

“Said not the witch alsoe that your Grace would 
goe upward somewhat? It beseemeth me that your 
Grace hath already gone upward to an uncommon 
height.” 

“Aye,” replied her Majesty, “and if I recollect 
truly, there cometh then a quarrel with a red-headed 
man.” 

Sir Walter opened a door at the head of the stairs 
and we came into a large, well-lighted apartment, in 
which were many people. 


270 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


‘'Behold the red-headed man/’ said he. 

At one side of the room there was a long oaken 
table covered with green cloth, around which stood a 
crowd of people and behind the table stood the red- 
headed man of whom Sir Walter spoke. 

In the middle of the table there was a large bowl 
of brass so fixed that it mighte be spun around with 
greate swiftness, and on the inside at the bottom of the 
bowl, there were a number of small compartments or 
stalls alternate red and black and each one numbered 
up to thirty-six. Each end of the table was marked 
off in small squares haveing the same numbers as those 
at the bottom of the bowl, and on the outside of these 
squares there were strips of red and black. When now 
the players had placed coins of different size upon the 
small numbered squares or upon the strips of red and 
black, the red-headed man spun the bowl around until 
it revolved with greate swiftnesse, then he tooke a 
small ivory ball and threw it into the bowl soe that it 
ran around upon the inside of it, and the bowl went 
one way and the ball another. When presently the 
bowl went more slowly, the ball alsoe ran more slowly, 
until at last it stopped running altogether and fell 
down into one of the small numbered compartments at 
the bottom. Then he who had placed his money upon 
that color or upon that number or upon that certaine 
group of numbers won the amount of that which he 
had putte down and in some cases double the amount, 
and in others treble the amount, and in others still, six 
times or twelve times or eighteen times the amount 
which he had putte down, according to the rules of 
the play. 

The Queen now haveing said that she was a minded 
to have experience of this manner of sport. Sir Walter 
tooke her arm and forced a way through the multitude 


THE FORTUNE TELLER 


271 


to the table, and a gentleman who had just won a fair 
sum haveing gathered up his gold and departed, she 
tooke his place at the board soe that she stood over 
against the red-headed man. Mistress Anne Bridges 
and I alsoe had found a place at the other end of the 
table. 

I now saw that her Majesty had laid a gold sove- 
reign upon the table in front of her soe that it was upon 
the line between thq numbers twenty-eight and thirty- 
two and that she had her finger upon it. 

‘'My goode woman,” said the red-headed man, 
“take your finger from off the coin.” 

“Who are ye to call me ‘my goode woman,’ ye 
insolent knave?” exclaimed the Queen, “An if I do not 
choose to take my finger from the coin, what then?” 

“Then the play goeth not on,” said the red-headed 
man. 

When her Majesty saw that this was soe and when 
several cried out that she was delaying the game, she 
tooke her finger off the sovereign, at which the red- 
headed man spun the bowl around and threw in the 
ivory ball. When the bowl slackened up in speed and 
the ball at length stopped moving, it fell into the com- 
partment marked twenty-eight, at which, several of 
the players cried out the name of a certaine hot place. 
The red-headed man counted out eighteen sovereigns 
and stacked them upon the Queen’s piece, after which 
he pulled in toward him the other coins upon the board, 
including two crowns of Anne Bridge’s money which 
she had asked me to stake for her. 

She called me a blockhead and was much vexed. 
The Queen, however, paid no attention to the money 
which she had won but, with much color upon her 
visage, gazed with anger at the red-headed man be- 
cause of the affront which he had putte upon her. 


2/2 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


At the next spinning of the bowl the little ball fell 
into the compartment marked thirty-two. At this 
there was much tumult among the players and on- 
lookers and every one looked at her Majesty to see 
what she would do. The red-headed man counted out 
three hundred and forty-two sovereigns and placed 
them in stacks of even height alongside the nineteen 
sovereigns already there. Her Grace, however, seemed 
to care naught for the pile of gold in front of her, but 
still gazed with great anger at the red-headed man. 

''Will the old fool not take her money before it is 
lost?” exclaimed a woman beside me. 

"Nay,” spoke another, "she hath it in for the bank 
and it is a case of all or nothing. My faith ! I would 
not have missed this play for a velvet fardingale.” 

Now when the bowl was spun again the little ball 
dropped for the second time into the stall marked 
twenty-eight. At this a great shout arose from the 
multitude and there was a tumult as if Bedlam had 
broken loose. The red-headed man with a wry face, 
counted out, with greate trouble and very slowly, six 
thousand four hundred and ninety-eight sovereigns 
and putte them with the Queen’s money. 

"The bank goes no further,” said he, when he had 
finished. 

"The bloomin’ olde Jezebel hath broke the bank,” 
exclaimed a man at my side. 

"She is in sooth the daughter of the evil one, to 
have such fortune,” said another. 

Mistress Bridges and I now made haste to the 
Queen’s side and Sir Walter and I tooke the gold and 
filled our wallets and stuffed it into divers parts of our 
cloathes, the same weighting us down to that extent 
that we could scarce walk. We then forced our way 
through the crowd of people and soe out of the house. 


THE FORTUNE TELLER 


273 

When we had at last embarked in her Majesty’s barge, 
Sir Walter said: 

“Madame Montmorency’s prophecy hath been ful- 
filled in every item, for your Grace did have the quarrel 
with the red-headed man and your Grace hath come 
into possession of a large sum of money. May God 
bless her for the foretelling of it. It was a fine wager 
which your Grace did make and it showeth well your 
Grace’s wisdom and shrewdnesse. Would that I 
knewe your Grace’s system in playing the game, as I 
have come off indifferent well myself in the matter.” 

“By the rood,” said her Majesty, “I have no system 
and I made no wager. The piece of gold which lay 
before me was left there by the gentleman whose place 
I tooke, he haveing overlooked it in his haste, and I 
putte my finger upon it in the way of prudence. Ye 
tell me that I have won seven thousand pounds this 
nighte. Ods bodykins, it is certaine that I knewe not 
of it, even while I was a winning of it. It beseemeth 
me alsoe that it were an evil thing to keep this money 
I have won by staking a coin which was the property 
of a strange gentleman, and that I should do my 
devoirs in giving it back to him.” 

“What !” exclaimed Sir Walter, give up to him the 
seven thousand pounds!” 

“Nay, the sovereign which was his,” answered her 
Grace. 


18 


THE ADVENTURE OF THE PLAY HOUSE 


One eveninge, at about six of the clock, in the latter 
end of the month of May, Sir Walter Raleigh and I 
were come upon some unimportant businesse to the 
Queen’s audience chamber at the palace of Whitehall. 
And when at last the courtiers and others had been 
dismissed, soe that we two were left alone with the 
Queen, her Majesty spake to us thus : 

“There is, as ye doubtlesse knowe, a play actor, in 
the company of Master Birbige, at the Globe Theatre, 
named William Shakespeare, who hath lately writ a 
new play intituled We Merry Wives of Windsor.’ In 
this play he doth perpetuate and continue the character 
of that villainous fat knight. Sir John Falstaff, which 
in the past hath given us exceedinge joy and content- 
ment.” 

“Now, though it were an easy thing to summon 
this same Master Shakespeare and his players that they 
mighte give an ensample of their play in the palace, 
yet it beseemeth me that it were a piece of more rare 
and untrammeled divertisement if we three mighte goe 
incog to this same Globe Theatre in Southwark, where 
the piece is this nighte to be acted, that we mighte 
mingle with the rabble and take pot luck with the mul- 
titude. What say ye. Sir Walter?” 

“What should I say but that your Grace hath 
spoken as usual the wisest thing at the righte moment. 
I prythee, your Grace, let me be your Grace’s guide and 
director in this eveninge’s adventure and I promise 
your Grace that never hath your Grace had and never 
will your Grace again have a nighte such as your Grace 
will have this nighte.” 

274 


THE PLAY HOUSE 


275 


‘Tt being arranged, the Queen went into her 
chamber and caused herself to be attired like unto a 
tradesman’s wife of the richer class. She wore a three- 
ringed fardingale of blue silk, a red velvet stomacher 
and upon her shoulders a yellow kerchief embroidered 
with green flowers. Her face, stuck here and there 
with black patches, after the fashion of the times, was 
half hidden in a high ruff and with a peaked lace cap, 
which came well down over her ears, soe that it was 
a hard matter to believe that this was in sooth the 
Queen of England. 

When she had commanded a posset cup to be made 
of a pint of strong burnt sack and had drunk the .same, 
she went with us from the postern of the palace and 
soe to the waterside, it being the plan ofl Sir Walter to 
goe down by boat to London Bridge, thence across the 
bridge on foot and soe along the bankside upon the 
Thames to the Theatre. 

When we were being rowed down the river. Sir 
Walter said to the Queen : 

“Your Grace, what think ye of this rnan Francis 
Bacon, the nephew of My Lord of Burleigh, who doth 
aver and maintain that it was he and not Master 
Shakespeare who hath writ all these plays?” 

“By’r Lady, what doe I think? What else mighte 
I think, save that he is a cheat and a liar? He hath 
the name of being the meanest and most avaricious 
rogue in my realm, and these plays haveing come to a 
good vogue and there being much profit in the licensing 
of them, it may well be that the idea hath come to him 
to claim their authorship. Furthermore, his honor is 
of that nicety that he would not appropriate the prop- 
erty of his neighbor were it well nailed down. This 
Master Bacon, together with his uncle and other influ- 
ential folk hath pestered me for many a month that I 


276 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


fnighte elevate him to a justiceship, but well I wot 
that he desires the thing solely for what coin there is 
in it and, as I have a sufficiency of judges of that 
nature, the fellow may goe hang e’er I appoint him.” 

I may say here, in writing these memoirs, that her 
Majesty was exceedinge righte in her judgement of 
Master Bacon. After her death he was ennobled by 
King James, appointed Attorney General of the King- 
dom and given a seat in the privy council, but he made 
a practice of taking bribes and of selling his decisions 
for money, as many a judge before and since hath done 
alsoe, soe that he was turned out of the office and dis- 
graced and clapt in prison, which is a fit place for all 
such. 

Now when we were come near to London Bridge 
and had landed, Sir Walter said : 

“Fair, your Grace, there is an Inn hereabouts, with 
the sign of the Cat and Fiddle, where one may procure 
most excellent strong Hollands, nathlesse it is not soe 
much in the goode quality of the liquor as it is the 
quaint and ingenious way in which mine host of the 
Cat and Fiddle doth brew these draughts of his. I 
pry thee, therefore, your Majesty, let us goe within and 
I will promise your Grace something altogether new 
and delectable.” 

“Have with you. Sweet Sir Walter,” answered the 
Queen. “If there is anything new in this line, ye 
knowe full well that it would deerly please me to 
essay it.” 

When we were come into the ordinary of the Tavern 
and her Grace was seated. Sir Walter ordered mine 
hoste to prepare draughts of a certaine brewinge, which 
he did by taking small glasses and putting into them a 
modicum of rare cordials, together with lemon peel and 
sugar and some spices. When he had then filled up 


THE PLAY HOUSE 


277 

the glasses with goode strong Holland gin he popped 
into each glass a preserved cherry and the draught was 
ready to serve. 

When the Queen had tasted of her liquor, she im- 
mediately tooke it down at a swallow and ordered mine 
host to fetch her another. 

‘Tt makes me feel,” said she, “like a' new woman, 
and it were but decent courtesy to drink with her alsoe.” 

We now left the Cat and Fiddle and entered upon 
London Bridge which, as ye knowe, is alike any street 
in London town, being lined with shops and houses on 
either side of the way, which buildings often meet in 
an arch across the top, soe that one cannot see the sky 
because of them. 

When we had walked about a quarter of its length, 
we came to a Tavern with the sign of a Briar Bush. 

“This Inn,” said Sir Walter, “is kept by one Master 
Sandy McPhee, an honest Scotchman who hath come 
to London doubtlesse for the goode of his country. In 
this Tavern your Grace mighte obtain, if your Grace 
should soe wish, a sample of that Scotch liquor, which 
in Scotland is called Usquebaugh, within the lowlands 
whusky and in England whiskey. It is of a light yel- 
lowish color, and when mingled with an equal quan- 
tity of hot water, sweetened with a lump of sugar and 
seasoned with lemon peel and nutmeg, maketh as goode 
and delightsome a draught as one mighte wish to have.” 

“By my troth,” said the Queen, “the passage of 
this bridge is a tedious one, to say nothing of a walk 
which cometh afterwards. Besides the which, the 
dampnesse of the river seemeth to hang upon the stones 
of these old houses, soe that it mighte be well, for the 
stomach’s sake and as a febrifuge to taste this national 
drink of Scotland. Soe let us in, good Sir Walter.” 

When mine host of the Briar Bush had brewed a 


278 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

goodly sized jorum, after the directions of Sir Walter, 
and the Queen had quaffed it. Sir Walter asked her 
how it pleased her. 

‘‘Why, it pleased me passably well,” replied her 
Grace, “but I think that I like not the nutmeg. Goode 
mine hoste, brew me another draught without the nut- 
meg.” 

When this was done and she had drunk the second 
glass alsoe, “I thought not that soe pleasant a thing 
should come out of Scotland,” said she. 

When we were two-thirds of the way across the 
bridge, her Majesty stopped and turned to look around. 

“Cogswounds,” said she, “Is there but one Tavern 
upon all this Bridge?” 

“Nay,” answered Sir Walter, “there is another Inn 
at the further end of the Bridge.” 

“Say ye soe?” said the Queen. “There should be 
one hard by the middle and with this and one at either 
end the passage of the bridge mighte be made bearable. 
But what of this Tavern at the further end? Doe they 
serve goode liquors in the house and is the place a fit 
one for Christian, modest ladies like myself?” 

“Aye, your Grace, ’tis in sooth a most honest house, 
and for their liquors, one cannot find the like in all 
London town. The inn is kept by a Frenchman, who 
hath had painted upon his sign, as your Grace may note, 
the three iieur de lys, which is the emblem of the French 
Kingdom. That in which he most excels is a draught 
composite of different rare and delicate cordials which 
he doth each season have fetched from across the chan- 
nel. I would that your Grace mighte essay one of 
these draughts.” 

“La, fair Sir Walter, I doe fear me that thou art 
a prime rascal and that thou hast designs upon my 
reputation for sobriety which, as thou knowest, has 


THE PLAY HOUSE 


279 

always been beyond reproach, nathlesse, I would fain 
sample these cordials, soe let us straightway into this 
bee hive and try the flavor of their honey.” 

When we were come into the Tavern, Sir Walter 
commanded the Tavern keeper, who tooke a glass and 
poured- into it a small quantity of an orange-colored 
cordial, then upon this he poured alsoe an equal quan- 
tity of another cordial which was green in colour, and 
soe smoothly and delicately did he decant the liquor 
that the two lay in the glass one upon the top of the 
other without mingling. Then he added a red, a white 
and an amber cordial, soe that there were five different 
layers of liquor in the glass, of five different colours, 
each of which was entirely separate and distinct from 
the one below and above it. 

When the Queen had sufficiently admired the colors 
of the liquid and the dexterity of our hoste, she swal- 
lowed the contents of the glass at a breath and seemed 
to take great plaisaunce in the doeing of it. 

‘‘There are alsoe many goode things which come 
out of France,” said she. “I prythee, fellow, brewe 
me another of these draughts but, whereas, thou didst 
make the first orange, green, red, white and amber, 
brew me this one of pink, light green, sky blue, straw 
colour and violet.” 

“Nay,” said the Frenchman, ''Sacre Nam. I am 
desolate to say to Madam dat I have not ze cordials of 
dese colours which your Ladyship desires.” 

“Well, no matter,” said the Queen, “make it of any 
colours, soe that ye make it quickly. I once saw some 
rabbits and snakes of the colour of which I spake, but 
again I say, it is noe matter.” 

When we were come out of the Tavern of the Fleur 
de Lys, a few steps brought us to the end of the London 
Bridge and we then turned to the righte and entered 


28 o 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


upon the road called the Bank Side which extends 
through Southwark, along the Thames, to the Bear- 
baiting gardens and to the Globe Theatre. 

‘T opine,” said the Queen, “that we must needs goe 
dry the rest of the way.” 

“Nay, your Grace,” answered Sir Walter, “Far 
from it. There is naught but one continuous row of 
taverns from here to the theatre. To instance a few 
of them, there is the White Swan, where they doe tap 
an excellent distillation of Rotterdam Schnaps and the 
Red Fox, where one may come by a glass of very old 
and costly brandy, burnt to a nicety. Which of them 
would your Grace elect to sample?” 

“We will make essay of them both, fair Sir Walter,” 
answered her Majesty. 

After we had visited the White Swan and the Red 
Fox I reckoned up that the Queen had already par- 
taken of nine most stiff and rude draughts of strong 
liquors, and I would have been afeared for the results, 
had I not known that she had a sound hedde and a 
goode stomache and in addition that Sir Walter was 
a most honest gentleman and had the welfare of his 
sovereign close at heart. 

“Should we come again to the Globe Theatre,” said 
Sir Walter, “we mighte take boat at the palace, and 
crossing the Thames, land at the Bank Side stairs, 
hard by the Theatre.” 

“Nay,” answered the Queen, “the way in which we 
have just come doth suit me passing well.” 

When we' had arrived at the entrance of the theatre, 
her Majesty, contrary to her usual custom and dispo- 
sition, insisted most strongly upon paying for all three 
of us and that alsoe for the best and most costly seats 
in the play house. 

“Fair Sirs,” said she, “this is on me. What are 


THE PLAY HOUSE 


281 


a few groats more or lesse? Vive la bagatelle. Am I 
not the richest woman in the Kingdom? Goe to. I 
bother not my hedde about such trifles.” 

When we had entered, we found the play already 
in progress, soe that we must needs force our way 
through the people to our places, which were upon the 
front benches of the pit. Nathlesse Sir Walter and I 
had but to follow in the wake of her Majesty, who 
rustled bravely and stoutly forward, trampling upon 
the toes of the assemblage, tearing away a fair berib- 
boned hat here and ruining a gentlewoman’s hedde 
dresse there, soe that there was much discontent and a 
great murmuring. When Master Shakespeare, who 
played the part of one Doctor Caius, a French physi- 
cian, came upon the stage, he was received with many 
plaudits by the people and her Grace stood up and cried 
with a loud voice : 

“What, ho. Master William, art thou there, my 
ancient and how doth it fare with thee?” 

He seemed somewhat vexed that he should be thus 
addressed, but otherwise tooke no notice of the matter. 
After the first act of the play was finished and the 
curtain had come down, the Queen turned to Sir Walter 
and said : 

“It beseemeth me that there is an unconscionable 
interval between potations.” 

“Fair, your Majesty,” replied he, “The Red Fox 
is hard by without and it is a matter easily remedied.” 

He then arose and gave her his hand and they went 
out of the playhouse, leaving me sitting where I was. 
After the curtain had gone up on the second act of 
the play, they came in together, causing noe little com- 
motion and muttering among the people in the house, 
and the Queen’s path as before, being strewn with the 
wreck of female finery. 


282 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


After this act, Sir Walter and her Majesty went 
out of the playhouse again. One of the gentlewomen, 
whom the Queen had most rudely rumpled, asked of 
her neighbor who was in like plight: 

“Why doe not these roysterers bring it into the 
theatre with them?” 

“Why doe they come into the theatre at all, when 
they had liefer pass the time in a pot house?” answered 
the other. 

Sir Walter and her Grace now commenced to goe 
out, not only between the acts of the play, but between 
the scenes thereof and I said to myself : 

“In sooth, there will be eftsoon a riot in the house, 
unlesse that something out of the ordinary shall hap- 
pen to prevent it.” 

And soe indeed something did happen which, for 
the moment, kept the storm from breaking, and this 
is how the matter chaunced : 

In the middle of the third act of the play, as ye may 
knowe. Master Ford cometh to his house, together with 
his friends, to apprehend Sir John Falstaff, whom he 
doth rightly suspect of an assignation with his wife, 
but Mistress Ford and Mistress Page have hidden the 
fat knight in a cloathes basket beneath the soiled linen 
and soe have him conveyed out of the house under the 
very nose of Master Ford. At this point, the Queen 
rose up and cried to Master Ford : 

“Ye dolt. Sir John is packed within the basket. 
Take your goode sword and thrust it to the bottom 
and ril be sworn that ye will let his gutts out.” 

At this, there were many sounds of disapproval 
through the play house, the players stood without action 
and Master Shakespeare, who was upon the scene in 
the part of Doctor Caius, came forward to the front of 
the stage and addressed Sir Walter: 


THE PLAY HOUSE 


283 


“Fair Sir, although I hold ye in regard, 

This thing in decency may goe noe further. 

It is a crying shame that ye have brought 
This gentlewoman here in such condition. 

And, by my Halidom, noe gentleman 
Should flaunt his light o’ love in public gaze. 

These tumults must determine or the play 
Goeth not forward from this very moment. 

I prythee, then, unlesse ye end this riot, 

Goe straightway out and get your money back.” 

It will be noticed that Master Shakespeare addressed 
Sir Walter in blank verse and in fact it was invariably 
the custom of this distinguished man, in all conversa- 
tion both public and private, to use this form of speech. 

“What did Master Shakespeare say to ye,” asked 
the Queen who, as I have before observed, was some- 
what hard of hearing. 

“He said,” answered Sir Walter, “that ye were a 
lady of fair appearance and that he thanked ye most 
heartily for the suggestion which ye made, however, 
that it mighte not be made use of, as it would spoil the 
spirit of the play.” 

“He was ever a courteous gentleman,” said the 
Queen. 

Presently her Grace fell asleep, with her hedde upon 
Sir Walter’s shoulder, and slept well into the last scene 
of the last act of the play. In this scene the fairies, 
holding lighted tapers, claunce around the prostrate 
form of Sir John and the brightnesse of the lights get- 
ting into the Queen’s eyes, awoke her and made her 
think that the play house was afire, soe that she started 
up and cried out with a great scream : 

“Fire, fire, fire.” 

At this, other people among the multitude tooke up 
the cry and there came a great panic among them, soe 


284 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


that they all rushed for the door of exit, trampling upon 
one another, and it was full ten minutes before the 
place was cleared. 

As for her Majesty, she had fallen in a faint at the 
first part of the tumult and, after having spent some 
time in striving to bring her to, but all in vain, we 
lifted her up. Sir Walter haveing her by the hedde and 
I haveing her by the heels, and bore her into a small 
room to one side of the stage, where we found Mrs. 
Page and Mrs. Ford changeing their apparell and soe 
we left the Queen in the care of these ladies. 

Very soon her Majesty came forth fully recovered 
and seemingly in most excellent spirits, soe we went 
down to the Thames landing and tooke boat for White- 
hall Palace. 

“By my troth,” said the Queen, “these stage gentle- 
women are of a most kind nature.” 

“What did they doe for your Grace?” asked Sir 
Walter, with some apprehension showing in his voice. 

“They did a many things, they unbuttoned my vest, 
loosed my stays, took off my stockings and putte my 
legs in hot water. By my faith, this Mistress Ford 
and Mistress Page are most sweet and compassionate 
ladies. 

“Ladies !” exclaimed Sir Walter, “Zounds, these are 
boys and not ladies. Doth your Grace not knowe that 
all these women’s parts be taken by beardlesse boys?” 

“Good Lord,” cried the Queen, “And I have told 
ye but the half.” 


THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASK-BALL 

When my revered uncle, Sir Francis Drake, re- 
turned from' his famous voyage around the world, the 
same haveing occupied the better part of three years, 
and had brought with him a vast, untold fortune of 
gold and silver coins and bullion and jewels and 
precious stones, which he had taken from the Spaniards 
in different parts of the world, our good Queen Bess 
was pleased to visit him upon his ship, the Golden Hind, 
where it lay at Deptford, and there she did partake of a 
banquet with him and after the banquet gave him the 
order of Knighthood. 

Now there was with her Grace, besides other noble- 
men, a French gentleman by name of Marchaumont, 
he haveing come to the Queen’s Court some months 
before in behalf of Monsieur the Duke d’Alengon, to 
further the Duke’s marriage with her Majesty. 

And it chaunced that, as her Grace passed over the 
sides of the ship, one of her garters, which was of 
purple. and gold and set with precious stones, came 
loose and fell down upon her heel, whereat. Monsieur 
de Marchaumont did seize it and protest that he would 
that very day send it to his Master the Duke d’Alengon 
as a gage d’amour. 

“Nay,” said her Grace, “that may ye not do at the 
present moment, as I have none other by me and with- 
out it, what is to keep my hose in place? I will nathe- 
less give it to ye upon the morrow, at which time, ye 
may send it to your master with my loveing compli- 
ments.” 

Now my uncle. Sir Francis, had upon the ship a 
large gray ape which had been given to him by the 

285 


286 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


King of Java when he had stopped in that country. He 
was of the height of a small man when he walked up- 
right and he was full of all manner of tricks and knav- 
ery. Wherefore, when he saw the shining bauble in 
the hands of Monsieur De Marchaumont, he came back 
of him stealthily and seized the garter and fled with it 
up into the rigging of the .ship. 

At this some of the sailors who stood about laughed 
loudly, but her Majesty swore a round oath and ordered 
my uncle to have the sailors follow the ape and recover 
from him her property. This was easier said than 
done, and it was a good full hour before Mr. Pompey, 
which was the ape’s name, was brought to booke and 
the garter taken from him. Meanwhile, however, her 
Grace was soe pleased at the ape’s antics and had so 
good a laugh at the predicament of his pursuers, that 
she begged Sir Francis to give the ape to her, which 
soe he did, and when he was brought next day to her 
palace at Greenwich, she caused a small house to be 
made for him in the park and spent much time there- 
after in watching his amusing tricks. 

Now there was alsoe sojourning at Queen Eliza- 
beth’s Court a French gentleman by name of Jehan de 
Simier. This gentleman was that same envoy whom 
the Duke D’Alengon had sent to her Majesty several 
years before, when there was first question of her mar- 
riage to the Duke. Since then, however, he had quar-, 
reled with his former Master and it was said now that 
he was an Ambassador to her Grace not from the 
Duke D’Alengon but rather from his brother. King 
Henry of France. 

This Jehan de Simier was a gentleman of small, 
slight stature, but of a handsome countenance and most 
courtly and pleasing manners. He was alsoe of an 
enterprising nature, soe that when he first visited her 


THE MASK-BALL 


287 


Grace on behalf of the Duke he had taken it upon him*- 
self to make love to her upon his own account. Her 
Majesty was well pleased that it should be soe, and it 
thus came about that they became at once most loveing 
friends. She had him lodged at her palace, in the next 
chamber to her own and spent days and months in 
converse and dalliance with him, not only in the privacy 
of her apartments, but publicly before her women and 
the gentlemen of her Court. In soothe, through her 
fondness for him, she made a play upon his name of 
Simier and in her loveing moods, both in her speech 
with him and in the hundreds of letters which she did 
indite to him, she dubbed him her dere monkey, the 
word “scimmia” being the term for that beast in the 
Italian language. 

This intimacy between her Grace and de Simier 
pleased not at all the gentlemen of her Court, and 
especially was it most hateful to the Earl of Leicester, 
who saw his influence with her Majesty lessened by 
reason of it. The noble Earl therefore hired certaine 
bravos to murder the French gentleman, but though 
they attacked him with swords and shot at him on two 
different occasions, nathelesse he came off at all times 
unharmed. 

Upon this last visit of de Simier to the Queen, he 
was liveing in a pavilion which stood in the park at 
Greenwich, her Grace being for the nonce lodged at 
that palace. For most part of the day, however, and 
of the nighte alsoe she had him in her apartments, 
where he amused her Majesty and her Majesty’s maids 
with his strange conceits and sprightly converse. 

He was a man of infinite accomplishment, he sang 
like a troubadour, played upon all manner of instru- 
ments, was a most excellent poet and a wit of fine and 
delectable humour. He excelled alsoe in the acting of 


288 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


diverse parts, by times he was an old woman, a maimed 
beggar, a bashful country maid or a drunken sailor. 

What most delighted the Queen, however, was that 
he should personify her ape Pompey. He would stoop 
down, with his legs bent at the knees and his hands 
depending in front, with the palms toward him, and 
chatter and hop about like an ape and scratch himself 
behind the ear and upon different parts of the body, 
makeing pretense of catching numbers of parasites, 
until her Grace and her Grace’s women were like to 
die with laughing at the exquisite humour of the thing. 
And soe it was that it had not been for nothing that 
she had intituled him her dere monkey. 

At that time and these things being soe, one Sir 
Robert Gray, a gentleman of great wealth, who pos- 
sessed a rich castle in the immediate neighborhood, 
planned to give a mask-ball for the Queen’s entertain- 
ment, and upon the morning of the day before the 
ball there came to the palace at Greenwich Sir Walter 
Raleigh to ask of the Queen that he mighte be per- 
mitted to goe with her Royal Grace to that entertain- 
ment, the which favour her Majesty did most graciously 
accord him. 

There being present besides the Queen and Sir 
Walter, Monsieur Jehan de Simier, several of the 
Queen’s maids of honor and myself, her Grace was 
then pleased to ask of Monsieur de Simier that he show 
to Sir Walter and myself his comical representation of 
Master Pompey, her ape, the which he did, though 
with much apparent reluctance, there being no love lost 
between Sir Walter and himself. 

When he was finished with the matter. Sir Walter 
clapped his hands in applause and swore that Pompey 
himself could not have done it better and that Monsieur 
de Simier and Pompey were as alike as two peas, the 


THE MASK-BALL 289 

which saying made the French gentleman putte on a 
wry face. 

We four, that is to say, the Queen, Monsieur de 
Simier, Sir Walter and I, being removed from hearing 
of the others in the chamber, Sir Walter said to her 
Majesty : 

“Your Grace, I have a proposition to make, the 
carrying out of which will give great sport and amuse- 
ment, not only to your Grace but to all of the company. 
I propose that Monsieur Jehan here, disguised and 
made up in all particulars like your Grace’s ape Master 
Pompey, shall goe to the Mask-Ball upon the morrow’s 
eve and there give, but at more length, the delightsome 
exhibition which he hath just given. To make the 
matter more piquant and joyous, I will wager an 
hundred crowns that his antics will not deceive the 
company there present, but that they will knowe at 
once the secret of the matter. What saith your Grace ?” 

“I say,” answered the Queen, “that it is easy money 
and I take ye up. Meanwhile I will write the thing 
down soe that there may be no mistake about it.” 

It was a hard matter for her Grace to persuade 
Monsieur de Simier to undertake the adventure and 
it was some time before she succeeded in bringing him 
to her point of view. However, she was bent upon 
it, not only for the jest of the thing but because she 
saw an easy way to win the hundred crowns, soe that 
at last she prevailed over his scruples. I thought my- 
self that Sir Walter’s plan boded no good to Monsieur 
de Simier. Sir Walter had a rare faculty for putting 
his adversaries in a hole and was ever ready with some 
jest or hoax to that purpose, and I knewe that he had 
small likeing for this French gentleman and esteemed 
him as nothing better than an effeminate jackanapes. 

Haveing now all of us promised that no word should 

19 


290 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


be said to anyone about the matter, that the disguise 
mighte .remain a secret and the wager won or lost upon 
its merits, Sir Walter and I tooke our departure. 

“It will be an hundred crowns well spent,” said Sir 
Walter to me as we went out. 

The ball was held in a great splendid hall of Sir 
Robert’s castle, and when I came there at eight of the 
clock at nighte, which I did by kind permission of her 
Majesty, I found a scene of very rich magnificence. 
The high ceilings, columns and rafters were hung with 
many-colored flags and tapestries, the room was lighted 
by a thousand candles and there were present as many 
as an hundred ladies and an hundred gentlemen, most 
of them disguised in different quaint costumes and 
masked and all cloathed in most beauteous and rich 
silks, satins and velvets. 

The Queen was not masked and wore a fair 
stomacher of white damasked satin, covered with pearls, 
a white velvet fardingale, upon which were sewn rows 
of amethysts and sapphires, a great white ruff and a 
headdress of almost the height of a cubit, which same 
was fairly covered with diamonds. Mistress Ann 
Bridges, one of the Queen’s maids of honor, of whom 
mayhap, I have before spoken, was in her Majesty’s 
train. Upon perceiving her, I at once made my way 
to where she was standing, as I had a great fondness 
for this young lady. She was dressed as a nun in gray 
and white, with a gray hood and a white band across 
her forehead, and showed a most demure grace and 
saintly aspect, which, as I had good reason to knowe 
was most contrary to the jade’s disposition. 

Now the ball was opened by a brawl, the same being 
led with a very pretty grace by her Majesty and Sir 
Walter Raleigh. Then came a daunce intituled the 
coranto and when that was finished, the doors of the 


THE MASK-BALL 


291 


hall were flung open, the Master of Ceremonies an- 
nounced Sir Pompey, and Monsieur Jehan de Simier, 
resembling in all respects the Queen’s ape, came gambol- 
ing into the hall with a hop, skip and a jump. He was 
cloathed in a coat of red velvet and breeches of blue 
satin, he wore a white ruff around his neck and a large 
felt hat with a long plume upon his hedde. His face 
was covered with a grey mask which was like the snout 
of an ape, the jaws of which were made to open and 
shut, showing when he chattered, a row of gleaming 
white teeth and upon his hands and feet were hairy 
gloves, soe that all in ail he was the exact counterpart 
of the beast which he represented. 

At sometimes he ran along upon all fours, at others 
he hopped about nimbly upon his legs, bending them at 
the knees and holding his hands in front of him after 
the manner of monkeys. He chattered continually and 
scratched himself upon the hedde and upon the hinder 
parts of his person, and he was up to all manner of 
tricks and knavery, pulling a ribbon from a maid here 
or snatching a fan from a lady there. 

The younger maids and the older ladies were most 
grievously frightened at the antics of the beast, or at 
least made pretence of great fear and ran away in all 
directions screaming from his approach, soe that there 
was a great tumult and an uproar of laughter and jests. 

Her Gracious Majesty was soe overwhelmed with 
mirth at the comical figure which he made and shook 
soe mightily with the laughter which seized upon her 
that Mistress Bridges and I, who stood near, thought 
that she would be likely to throw a fit, and this in 
sooth she came near to doing when Master Pompey 
came up to her and putte his paw upon her arm and 
made pretence of whispering in her ear and did at the 
last kiss her upon the cheek with his great snout. 


292 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


Now when it was plain that all the multitude there 
present believed stoutly that Monsieur Jehah de Simier 
was the Queen’s ape Pompey, Sir Walter came up to 
her Majesty. 

“Fair your Grace,” said he, “I confesse that I have 
lost the wager which your Grace was pleased to make 
with me. Short reckonings make long friends as Will 
Shakespere says, soe that I will ’een pay the money on 
the spot and have done with it.” 

With that, he opened his wallet and counted out to 
her Majesty the hundred crowns which he had lost 
upon the bet. 

Her Majesty was soe pleased at the winning of 
the wager and at the amiable manner in which Sir 
Walter had discharged his debt that she pulled him 
playfully by the ear and from that time for many 
months they were most loveing friends. 

Monsieur Jehan de Simier now removed the snout- 
like mask, thus exposing his physnomie to the mul- 
titude, and when they saw that it was in sooth he and 
when they realized that this humourous and' surprising 
joke had been putte upon them, they filled the air with 
joyous exclamations of mirth and crowded around the 
French gentleman to examine his disguise and to give 
him their congratulations. 

Some little time thereafter a page entered the hall 
and comeing up to Monsieur de Simier whispered in 
his ear, whereat he followed the page and left the 
chamber, being absent therefrom for a quarter of an 
hour or more. 

When he returned to the festivities, it was again in 
the character of Pompey the Queen’s ape. He ran 
about on all fours, hopped hither and thither, chattered 
and scratched himself in a manner, which, if possible, 
was more perfect and comical than before. This time, 


THE MASK-BALL 


293 


nathelesse, there seemed to be more malice in his mis- 
chief. He came up behind the young maids and 
pinched them upon the calves of their legs and in other 
parts of their bodies where it is not mete for a man 
to pinch a woman. He plucked a diamond brooch 
from the bosom of My Lady Scrope and flung it 
through an open window into the grass outside, where 
a score of people were an hour afinding it, and at last 
he seized upon the headdress of an old gentlewoman 
and lifted it bodily from her hedde, soe that she stood 
there in the midst of the floor, with a bald and shining 
pate, to her great shame and rage and the mortification 
of her kinsfolk. 

Next he ran in among the musicians, and seizing a 
drum stick, smote lustily upon a big drum, thereby rais- 
ing a horrid discord and causing much confusion among 
the players. When now the master of the musicians 
came to drive him forth, he seized a viol from one of 
the players, ' the same being like a large fiddle and 
brought it down with such a rude stroke upon the old 
music master’s hedde that his hedde went through it 
and came out upon the upper side. 

By this time there was a great tumult among the 
assembly. Many people said that he was in sooth 
drunk, and the Queen asked some of her gentlemen 
to goe quickly and take him from the hall. When, 
however, they went to do her bidding, he leaped past 
them, and skipping across the chamber, hopped upon 
the long banquet table which stood against the wall. 
Upon this table the banquet was already spread, fine 
pastries, baked fowls, suckling pigs, tarts of all shapes 
and substances, together with many other sweet con- 
fections of fantastic shape and delightsome contents. 
These treasures of the cook’s art Sir Pompey seized 
and flung about the hall and upon the floor soe that one 


294 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


mighte scarce walk with the gravy, grease and jelly 
upon the boards. 

At this of course there was a great outcry and the 
Queen herself was filled with wrath soe that she came 
over against the table and shook her fist at him. 

“There is a limit to all things, Master Jehan,’' she 
cried. “The jest hath played itself out and ye have 
outstayed your welcome. Come down out of that now, 
e’er I have ye thrown out of the place.” 

At this Sir Pompey stooped down and tooke a 
currant tart from the board and threw it at her Grace 
skilfully and with great force soe that it struck her 
Majesty full in the face and the red juice ran down 
thence over her white ruff, her white satin stomacher 
and her white velvet fardingale, soe that she seemed 
drenched and covered with blood. 

The Queen was beside herself with rage. 

“God’s death,” she cried, “will someone kill for 
me that damnable caitiff?” 

Several of her gentlemen, Sir Walter and myself 
included, sprang forward and made at him with our 
swords, but he leaped down and evaded us by skipping 
beneath the table cloth, and while we were seeking him 
there, he came out at the other end of the table, forty 
feet away and from there sprang to the ledge of an 
open window, which was fully six feet from the floor 
and thence vanished into the nighte. 

When her Majesty had been repaired what was 
possible, it being then near to the dawn of day, we 
tooke our departure from Sir Robert’s castle and made 
our way toward the Queen’s palace at Greenwich, the 
Queen and her maids traveling in her coach and Sir 
Walter and I awalking alongside. 

When we were come to the park at Greenwich, it 
being then broad daylight, I noticed a man running 


THE MASK-BALL 


295 


swiftly beneath the trees toward the pavilion where 
Monsieur de Simier lodged. He was cloathed in his 
shirt only, but was holding up a barrel around him 
with both hands. 

Her Grace, who was looking from the window of 
the coach, cried out to Sir Walter : 

“What arrant rogue is yon who doth trespass in 
my park at this ungodly hour, clad in such indecent 
manner ?” 

“He hath the appearance,’' answered Sir Walter, 
of Monsieur de Simier, but how he came in such 
plight, I knowe not.” 

“The drunken, vile and wicked knave,” exclaimed 
her Grace, “see to it that he comes never again into 
my presence.” 

When the Queen had withdrawn into the coach, I 
said to Sir Walter : 

“I prythee, good Sir. Walter, tell me the mystery 
of this thing. What was the cause that Monsieur de 
Simier did so demean himself, and why doth he now 
run through the woods in a barrel ?” 

Sir Walter, as all men knowe, was at that time 
Captain of the guard and I, being his lieutenant, we 
had great esteem and love toward each other. For 
this reason it was his custom to speak to me in plain 
words which, if they were heard by others, would have 
given a rude buffet to his fortune. 

“Master Roland,” said he gravely, “I have no 
exact knowledge of the matter, but it may be that it 
came about in this manner, it may be that the page who 
summoned him from the banquet hall told him that a 
lady awaited him outside, it may be that when he came 
outside, he was seized by two ruffians, bound, gagged 
and blindfolded and thrown into a coach, by which he 
was taken to a house nearby; it may be that Pompey, 


296 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


the Queen’s ape, had already been taken to this same 
house, it may be that they stripped de Simier of his 
apparel and putte it upon the ape, and it may be that 
they then tooke the ape to Sir Robert’s castle and let 
him into the banquet hall. It may be that de Simier, 
finding himself locked in the room alone, escaped 
through the window, and being without cloathing, save 
his shirt, did cloathe himself with the barrel, which he 
haply found in the yard of the house and thus appareled 
did run from there to Greenwich. 

“Then,” said I, “it was Pompey the ape himself, 
and not de Simier, who made that grievous riot and 
putte that foul affront upon her Grace?” 

“It may be soe,” answered he; “thus we find that 
a knave is come up with at the ending and that one 
does not give away an hundred crowns for naught.” 

Verily, Sir Walter was a great courtier. 


THE ADVENTURE OF THE DEVIL TAVERN 


One afternoon, in the Queen’s chapel at Whitehall 
palace, her Majesty having gone there to practice her- 
self in a new daunce, there being present besides her 
Grace, Sir Walter Raleigh, Mistress Ann Bridges, 
Mistress Elizabeth Throckmorton and myself. Sir 
Walter spoke of an Italian gentleman, Signor Fromenti, 
who had lately introduced into London Towne a 
curious art of deviltry, which he had intituled the wak- 
ing sleep, by reason of the fact that, by this art he was 
enabled to putte a man or woman into a trance, half 
sleeping half waking, in which he would act as if 
possessed by the evil one. 

“He puttes the patient into a chair,” Sir Walter con- 
tinued, “and standing in front of him, makes certaine 
passes and movements with his hands, up and down 
and from side to side. Then he doth holde before his 
eyes a bright crystal, cut in the form of a diamond 
and when the patient or subject hath gazed upon it for 
a while, his eyes contract and his eyelids half close 
and presently he doth come into a sort of a trance in 
which he knoweth not what he doeth, but obeyeth in 
all things what is told him by the Signor, so that if he 
were told to stand upon his hedde or any other foolish 
and debased thing, he doeth it without delay. Further- 
more, while the subject is in this state, should the Sig- 
nor tell him that, upon the morrow, at a certaine hour, 
he must do a certaine thing, lo and behold, when that 
hour cometh, though he is no longer in that state of 
trance, natheless, without consciousness that he is fol- 
lowing the commands of the Signor, he performeth 
that action to which he was commanded the day before. 

297 


298 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

This Italian gentleman doth hold forth nightly in 
the large ordinary room of the Devil Tavern at the 
sign of St. Mark and the Devil in Fleet Street, and 
many there be of London’s best who goe there to see 
him perform these miracles. I have myself witnessed 
these doings upon several occasions and I have, at other 
times, had the Signor instruct me in this curious art, 
soe that I mighte myself, should occasion arise, putte 
this thing into use. 

“This art,” said her Grace, “of putting people into 
a trance, that they may be made to do that which they 
would not do, if in their proper senses, doth appeal to 
me and I would willingly see the thing done. Let us 
then goe this nighte to the Devil Tavern, where we will 
witness this strange discovery of which ye have 
spoken.” 

“Aye,” said Sir Walter, “there is nothing easier. 
I will at once seek out this Signor Fromenti and ar- 
range with him, that after the customary performance 
this nighte, he shall dismiss the audience, that we may 
have experience of his proceedings at leisure and with- 
out hindrance. Alsoe let us take a subject or two with 
us, that he may experiment upon them, for our profit 
and satisfaction. What sayeth your Grace to Sir 
Christopher and De Bacqueville, the French emissary? 
Sir Christopher is a most precise and prim gentleman 
and if he should be prevailed upon to stand upon his 
hedde or play leapfrog, it will be a rare matter for our 
amusement. De Bacqueville is a fellow of courtly 
gesture and quick expression and it would mightily 
please me to see how he conducteth himself in this con- 
dition. We will alsoe inform them nothing of the 
matter beforehand, soe that they will have no suspicion 
of that which will be done to them.” 

It being soe agreed, and Sir Walter haveing prev- 


THE DEVIL TAVERN 


299 


iously sought out the Italian gentleman and arranged 
with him as he had promised, we set out along the 
Strand at eight o’clock of the evening. Her Majesty, 
Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Christopher Hatton, De Bac- 
queville the French emissary, Mistress Ann Bridges, 
Mistress Elizabeth Throckmorton and myself. 

Coming along to the Temple Bar we passed through 
it and soe entered into the Fleet Street, and presently, 
a little way further, arrived at that famous hostelry 
named the Devil Tavern. When we now came into 
the ordinary room of the Tavern, we found there a 
concourse of more than three score of people. Among 
them were a few gentlemen and ladies, but for the most 
part, we found naught but tradesmen and their wives, 
prentices and waiting maids. There was a raised plat- 
form at one end of the room, upon which, as we entered. 
Signor Fromenti was giving his exhibition. The peo- 
ple sat upon chairs and benches facing him. 

He was at the moment, putting a spell upon a 
buxom serving maid. She sat before him and he 
stood and made passes in front of her face with his 
hands and gazed fixedly and compellingly into her 
eyes. Then he held in front of her eyes a large crystal, 
of many facets, and presently, she was seen to goe 
into a trance, her form being relaxed, her head thrown 
back and her eyes half closed. He then gave her a 
glass of water to drink and she drinking it, he told 
her it was vinegar, whereat, she made a wry face. He 
stuck a pin into her arm without her feeling it. Then 
he stroked her body from the head downward and she 
became rigid, so that he putte her hedde upon one 
chair and her heels upon another, soe that she was 
suspended in mid air, whereupon he sat upon her body, 
which supported him as it were made of wood. He 
now set her in the chair and told her to come to him 


300 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


upon the morrow morning at ten of the clock and to 
bring a half crown, and then he shook her and blew 
upon her eyes, whereupon she came out of her trance, 
seeming bewildered and apparently not knowing what 
she had done. 

Having putte several other persons into this strange 
state, the Italian gentleman dismissed the audience, so 
that there were left with him only her Majesty, Sir 
Walter Raleigh, Sir Christopher Hatton, Monsieur De 
Bacqueville, the two maids of honor and myself. 

“Signor,” said now Sir Walter, “for the content- 
ment of her Majesty, I pry thee putte me now into that 
state of sleep which we have just seen.” 

The Italian gentleman looked him over carefully 
and said : 

“Nay, Sir Walter, I fear me that you no de gooda 
sogetto for dissa esperimento. You haf, what you 
calla heem? too mucha power of de will. I rather 
taka dis Signor here. He looka like de gooda sogetto.” 

He indicated Sir Christopher Hatton as he spoke. 

“Nay,” said Sir Christopher, “I like not this foolish- 
ness. It is well enough for prentices and serving maids 
to thus make mountebanks of themselves, but I care 
not to demean myself in that manner.” 

“What,” said Sir Walter, “would ye refuse to 
perform soe small a thing, when it is for her Grace’s 
pleasure, and have I not already offered myself for the 
purpose and been rejected? Shame on ye that ye 
should putte a hindrance to her Grace’s amusement.” 

The rest of us joined in urging him to submit him- 
self to the test, and at length Sir Christopher having 
been convinced against his will, tooke his place, with a 
wry face, in the chair in front of Signor Fromenti. 

The Italian gentleman had difficulty in bringing 
him into the proper state of trance and was forced to 


THE DEVIL TAVERN 


301 


employ all his methods for some minutes. At length, 
by his posture and by the fixed looke in his eyes it was 
seen that the spell had been cast upon him. 

^‘Now then,” said Signor Fromenti, “to oblige de 
ladies, you vill be one big gray cat on de fence back 
of de house. Walk likea de cat and sing lika heem.” 

Sir Christopher at once got down upon the floor 
on all fours and went to walk like a cat on a fence. 

“Miaow, miaow, miaow, waow, waow, waow!” 
said he. 

Sir Walter picked up a heavy hassock and flung 
it with so good an aim that it struck Sir Christopher 
upon the side of the head. Sir Christopher shook his 
head and growled and spit. 

“De bada man trowa de cush at de cat,” said Signor 
Fromenti. “Now you are one boule dog which chasa 
de cat, run lika de dog and bark lika heem.” 

“Sir Christopher ran about on all fours and leaped 
up against the wall. 

“Bow wow, bow wow, bow wow, wow, wow!” 
barked he. 

“Now de boule dog have caught de cat and de cat 
have scratch de nose of de dog.” 

“Kiyi, ki yi, ki yi yi yi,” yelped Sir Christopher. 

“Gooda dog, gooda dog,” said Signor Fromenti. 
“Sit up and I give you one piece of meat.” 

Sir Christopher sat up like a dog begging and the 
Signor made as if to give him a piece of meat. 

Sir Walter now handed the Italian gentleman a 
paper upon which he had written something and Signor 
Fromenti, when he had read it, bent down and 
whispered in Sir Christopher’s ear for some moments. 

“It is something which I desired Sir Chritsopher 
to do upon the morrow when he comes into your 
Grace’s audience,” said Sir Walter. 


302 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


The Italian gentleman now brought Sir Christopher 
out of his trance. Sir Christopher seemed bewildered 
and rubbed his hand over his forehead. 

“Did I do anything out of the ordinary?” asked he. 

“Nay,” answered Sir Walter, “ye were your own 
self throughout. I doubt if the Signor was able to 
do much with ye.” 

Monsieur De Bacqueville now offered to submit 
himself to the Signor. 

“I knowe eet is impossible that he make of me a 
donkey,” said he. 

“Sacre nom du chien! eet is impossible.” 

De Bacqueville, however, was soon brought under 
the influence of the Italian gentleman. 

“Now you are one cock in de barn yard,” said the 
Signor. “Clappa de wing lika de cock and crow.” 

De Bacqueville raised his arms up and down like 
a cock. 

“Cock a doodle do, cock a doodle do, cock a doodle 
do,” said he. 

“Now you are one boule frog by the pond. Jump 
lika de frog and croak lika heem.” 

De Bacqueville got down upon the floor as near as 
might be in the position of a frog and jumped hither 
and thither. 

“Croak, croak, croak, croak,” said he. 

“Now swim lika de boule frog,” commanded Signor 
Fromenti. 

De Bacqueville stretched himself upon his belly 
and made motions as of a frog swimming. 

“It is monstrous,” said Sir Christopher, “that a 
man should be made to demean himself in that manner. 
I would not have believed it, had I not seen it. Thank 
God, this necromancer failed in his attempt to work 
his magic upon me.” 


THE DEVIL TAVERN 


303 


Sir Walter now again wrote somewhat and handed 
the paper to the Italian gentleman, who whispered it 
into the ear of De Bacqueville. 

“I commanded him alsoe to do something upon the 
morrow,” said Sir Walter aside to the Queen. 

Signor Fromenti now awakened De Bacqueville by 
blowing in his face. The Frenchman seemed dazed 
for a few moments. 

‘‘Sacre bleu,” he exclaimed, “I have been too much 
for de Signor. Dat is so, is eet not? he do nothing 
to me, hein?” 

“No, he didn't do a thing to you,” said Sir Walter. 

We now tooke our leave of the Italian gentleman 
and proceeded on our way to Whitehall, her Majesty 
saying that she was infinitely pleased with the curious 
sights which we had seen. As we were awalking 
along, I made note that Sir Christopher and De Bacque- 
ville were discussing the matter with each other with 
many gesticulations and much heat. 

When we were come again to the palace her 
Majesty had Sir Walter and myself enter her with- 
drawing room that she mighte talk with us about the 
strange happenings of the nighte. 

“I prythee. Sir Walter,” said she, “tell me of the 
commands which ye did transmit to Sir Christopher 
and De Bacqueville through the Italian gentleman.” 

Sir Walter took a paper and wrote somewhat there- 
upon and folded and sealed it and gave it to the Queen. 

“I commanded them to do certaine things upon the 
morrow when they come into your Grace’s audience,” 
said he. “I have made record here of that which I 
bade them do, that your Grace may afterward examine 
it and see if they have not fulfilled my intentions to the 
letter.” 

Sir Walter now tooke from his wallet a large 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


304 

crystal with many facets and showed it to her Majesty. 

“This,” said he, “is the crystal with which Signor 
Fromenti cast the spell upon Sir Christopher and De 
Bacqueville. He was so good as to loan it to me that 
I mighte myself experiment with it.” 

“Ha,” exclaimed the Queen, “this happens most 
fortunately. It would please me mightily to have ye 
try this thing on me. I doubt that ye can prevail over 
my will, but it is the chance of a lifetime. I would 
fain make essay of the businesse.” 

“Nay,” answered Sir Walter, “God forbid that I 
should make trial of such heathenish practices upon 
the Lord’s anointed, beside the which, against the in- 
telligence, wisdom and Christian, piety of your Grace, 
such incantation and bedevilment would surely fail.” 

“Be that as it may. Sir Walter, I would have expe- 
rience of the thing and I command ye to undertake it, 
at the same time absolving ye from all the consequences. 
Therefore begin upon the businesse without delay.” 

Sir Walter thus being given no choice in the mat- 
ter, tooke his place before her Majesty, who was seated 
in her large velvet arm chair, and held the crystal be- 
fore her eyes, at the same time making passes with his 
other hand before her face and upon her hair. After 
a few moments it was seen that she was commencing 
to come within the influence of the spell, her pupils 
contracted and she gazed at the crystal as if fascinated 
by it. Now^ presently her muscles began to relax, her 
eyes half closed and it was plain that Sir Walter had 
thrown her into the trance. 

“Now,” said Sir Walter to the maids of honor and 
to me, “it were a parlous matter if knowledge of this 
thing should goe abroad. What say ye? Here is a 
rare jest to hand, but ye must first swear yourselves 
to absolute secrecy in regard to it.” 


THE DEVIL TAVERN 


305 

After we had taken an oath to divulge nothing of 
the businesse, Sir Walter addressed the Queen: 

“Your Majesty,” said he, “the Spanish Ambassador, 
the Marquis de Mendoza, is without, and desires 
urgently an audience. That your Majesty may re- 
ceive him in State and with the proper ceremony, I 
herewith hand your Majesty the royal scepter.” 

Sir Walter tooke a tall silver candlestick from the 
shelf over the fireplace and gave it to the Queen, who 
held it up in her righte hand. 

“Your Grace should alsoe wear the royal crown,” 
said he. 

With this he tooke up a small basket made of silver 
filigree and placed it inverted upon the Queen’s head. 

“Now,” said he aside to Mistress Throckmorton, 
“run quickly forth and bring me Master Pompey, her 
Majesty’s ape.” 

The maid of honor ran swiftly from the chamber 
and soon returned, leading the ape by a cord. I have 
perhaps spoken before of this animal, it being the same 
which my uncle. Sir Francis, had brought from the 
Indies and presented to her Grace. The ape came up 
to the Queen and sat upon his haunches before her. 

“This,” said Sir Walter to her Majesty, “is the 
Marquis de Mendoza, the Spanish Ambassador, who 
desires to salute your Grace.” 

Master Pompey scratched himself upon the back 
of his hedde. 

“He is making salutation after the custom of his 
country,” said Sir Walter. 

The ape now chattered long and volubly. 

“The Noble Marquis,” continued Sir Walter, “com- 
plains in behalf of his Master, King Philip, that my 
half brother. Sir Humphrey Guilbert, hath harassed 
his ships and done them damage, and doth demand 
20 


3o6 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


reparation for the same and adequate punishment for 
Sir Humphrey. Your Grace will please snap her 
fingers at him in intimation that he may go hang.” 

The Queen snapped her fingers several times at the 
ape and Master Pompey, who had been taught to do 
so at this gesture, stood upon his hind legs and leaped 
up and down chattering and grimacing. 

“He takes it in ill part,” said Sir Walter, “if your 
Grace will snap the whip, he will be quickly brought 
into more proper and respectful humor.” 

Sir Walter, with this, gave her Majesty a small 
whip with which it was customary to bring the ape 
into subjection, and the Queen brandished it above 
Master Pompey’s hedde. Master Pompey now 
crouched at the Queen’s feet and putte his muzzle upon 
the floor, which same thing he had been taught to do. 

“Now,” said Sir Walter, “I pray your Grace to 
hold out the scepter that the Marquis may leap over 
it, thus signifying his humility and complete debase- 
ment.” 

The Queen held out the scepter as Sir Walter 
directed and Master Pompey, who had been instructed 
in this trick, leaped over it once, twice and thrice. 

“The Spanish Ambassador will now be conducted 
from the Audience chamber,” said Sir Walter. When 
the ape was taken from the room, Sir Walter again 
addressed the Queen. 

“Your Grace will kindly remember,” said he, “when 
Lord Burleigh and the other members of the privy 
council come into your Grace’s audience upon the 
morrow morning, to appoint Sir Walter Raleigh Vice 
Admiral of Devon and Cornwall and alsoe to give him 
the monopoly of selling wines and exporting woolen 
cloths. That I think is about all.” 

He now tooke the candlestick and the basket from 


THE DEVIL TAVERN 


307 

the Queen and blew upon her eyes, whereat she at 
once came out of the trance and was herself again. 

“I perceive,” said she to Sir Walter, “that ye have 
failed in your undertaking to bring the trance upon 
me, since I have had my full and complete senses at 
all times since ye began. I mind me that De Mendoza, 
the Spanish Ambassador, was here but a moment gone. 
How think ye that I answered his impudent demands 
for reparation?” 

“Your Grace most certainly gave the Spanish rogue 
what was coming to him,” answered Sir Walter. 

Sir Walter and I now tooke our leave and went 
away from the palace. 

“Do ye think,” said I, as we were awalking along, 
“that her Grace will give ye these appointments?” 

“Aye,” said he, “it is more than likely, and if she 
does not, there is no harm done and I will have another 
try at the old jade.” 

“It was a fortunate thing,” said I, “that ye had the 
crystal with ye.” 

“Nay,” he answered, “it was not fortune, my boy, 
it was forethought.” 

At ten of the clock upon the next morning Sir 
Walter and I came into the audience chamber of White- 
hall palace and found already there the Queen, her 
maids of honor, her ladies in waiting, as well as several 
gentlemen, among whom were Castelnau the French 
Ambassador and De Marchaumont, who was at the 
English Court in the interests of the Duke D’Alengon. 

Beckoning Castelnau, Sir Walter and myself to 
come to her, her Majesty said to Castelnau: 

“Monsieur, the intelligence has been given to me 
in a miraculous way that there will be strange things 
happening in this room today. I have been' told that 
your countryman, De Bacqueville, as well as Sir Chris- 


3o8 ALRASCHID IK PETTICOATES 

topher Hatton, a member of my privy council will 
perpetrate curious tricks of buffoonery in my presence. 
Here is a sealed paper, within which are noted exactly 
the antics which these gentlemen will perform. The 
jest of the matter is that neither of them knoweth as 
yet that he will' do these things. I prythee, read what 
is here set down and tell me what ye think of it.” 

The Queen unsealed the paper and gave it to Castel- 
nau, who read its contents with much astonishment. 

“Your Grace,” he said, “this thing is impossible. 
Sir Christopher is a man of great primness and dignity 
and my compatriot, De Bacqueville, is a gentleman of 
elegance and courtliness. Either of them would cut 
his right hand off rather than so demean himself.” 

“I knowe not what it is that they are to do,” said 
her Majesty, “but I will wager ye twenty crowns that 
whatever is there set down that they will perform.” 

“I take your Grace’s bet with pleasure,” answered 
Castelnau; “though it is so easy that I regret to take 
the money from your Grace.” 

The members of the council. Lord Burleigh, Sir 
Christopher Hatton, Sussex, Bedford and Walsingham, 
now entered the chamber. 

As soon as he was come inside the door. Sir Chris- 
topher ran nimbly from his confreres and turned four 
cartwheels down the center of the chamber. Then he 
threw a fine handspring and made essay to turn a 
somersault but failing in this, sat heavily down upon 
the floor. 

“What think ye of the Lord High Chancellor?” he 
cried. 

There was a great commotion among the company 
present, much tittering among the ladies and angry 
protests from the gentlemen. The Queen, however, 
laughed loud and long and clapped her hands. 


THE DEVIL TAVERN 


309 


“I would hate to tell ye what I think of ye,” said 
Lord Burleigh. ‘Tt is many years since I have seen 
a man so make an ass of himself. The council is no 
place for fools and I wonder that her Grace doth per- 
mit ye to sit in it.” 

“Pish, tush,” exclaimed her Majesty, “ye make a 
mountain out of a molehill. Sir Christopher is a most 
entertaining gentleman and he has just now given us 
an excellent amusement.” 

“What say ye now?” asked the Queen of Castlenau, 
“did not Sir Christopher do exactly as it is set down 
in the writing?” 

“Aye,” answered the French gentleman, “but I will 
be eternally condemned if I understand the why and 
wherefore of the businesse. If now De Bacqueville 
alsoe plays the ape, I will cheerfully pay your Grace 
the amount of the bet. I cannot, however, believe it 
possible for him to do soe.” 

Sir Christopher, who had now arisen from the 
floor, seemed much confused and embarrassed and went 
to slip privily from the chamber. 

“It is strange that I should do this thing,” said he 
to those near him. “It was a quick and sudden im- 
pulse, the cause of which I knowe not. God help me 
for an idiot and a mountebank. I ne’er thought that 
I should come to this pass.” 

It was at this moment that De Bacqueville came 
into the chamber. Upon the instant of his entrance 
he seemed possessed with a sort of madness, and skip- 
ping swiftly to where stood Lady Stafford, a fat old 
dame of seventy years or more, bewigged, powdered 
and painted, he fell upon his knees before her and took 
her hand in his. 

“Fair and incomparable nymph,” cried he, “most 
beauteous, youthful and entrancing maid, I loaf you. 


310 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

I haf loafed you alvays, vill you be mine own?’' 

He then arose, and notwithstanding the old lady’s 
struggles, kissed her with a great smack, and seizing 
her in his arms, daunced with her around the chamber. 
When he was at last separated from her, her wig was 
off, her gown and laces torn and disarranged and she 
was in a great passion, so that she gave him several 
rude cuffs and scratches. Monsieur de Bacqueville 
now seemed much dazed and confused and quickly 
withdrew from the chamber. 

“Your Grace wins,” said Castelnau, and as he said 
it, he counted out the twenty crowns and gave them to 
her Majesty, “but why in the Devil’s name they should 
so comport themselves, and why your Grace should 
have knowledge of it, I knowe not.” 

“Hath Bedlam broken loose?” asked Lord Bur- 
leigh, “and have all its inmates gathered in this place? 
This is a very hotbed of madness.” 

“Nay,” answered the Queen, “ye are mad yourself, 
or you would see that all this is but an innocent amuse- 
ment and a jest. By the by, I have this day seen fit 
to appoint Sir Walter Raleigh Vice Admiral of Devon 
and Cornwall and to give him the monopoly of the 
sale of wines and the exporting of woollen cloths. See 
to it therefore, my good Cecil, that the warrants are 
made out.” 

“But, your Grace,” cried Lord Burleigh, “this may 
not be, for these things were promised to Bedford, 
Sussex and Davidson. Would your Grace brake your 
Grace’s promise?” 

“Aye, Cecil,” answered the Queen, much vexed, 
“and I will break something else beside if ye flout me 
in this way, and that is your thick hedde. Ye will 
make out the warrants as I have said, and that is the 
end of it.” 


THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING 


311 

‘Tf your Grace and all these others are not mad, 
then I am,” cried Lord Burleigh, clapping his hands 
to his head. 

Her Majesty now called Sir Walter to her and said 
something to him in a low voice and I saw him draw 
the crystal from his wallet and give it into her hands. 
She now dismissed us, and as Sir Walter and I were 
leaving the chamber, I saw that she had Lord Burleigh 
seated in a chair before her and that she was holding 
the crystal up before his eyes and was making passes 
with her other hand in front of his face. Lord Bur- 
leigh was a man of much flesh, his leg and foot were 
bandaged for the gout, his face was mottled and his 
eyes blue and bulging like those of a frog. Thinking 
now that the whole court, including her Majesty, had 
gone insane, his look was soe discomposed and pitiful 
that we laughed all along the street as we went, until 
our sides were sore. I congratulated him most joy- 
ously on the three appointments which he had gotten 
from the Queen. 

'^Aye,” said he, ‘T have wrought valiantly for these 
favors for many months, and would have had them 
before, were it not for old Burleigh, Hatton and 
Walsingham. However, as Will Shakespeare says, 
there are more ways than one of skinning a cat, and 
when I saw the wondrous effects of the Italian’s magic 
it came to me that here was a method of great excel- 
lence.” 

Truly, one has to rise betimes to cope with Sir 
Walter. 


THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING 


It was upon the eve of St. Bartholomew that her 
Majesty again decided to adventure forth into the citie, 
and upon this occasion she would take none with her 
but her maid of honor, Mistress Anne Bridges, a lady 
of whom I have before spoken, and myself. 

We went by way of Fleet Street and Farringdon 
road to Lud Gate, and thence up Ludgate Hill to St. 
Paul’s and soe into Paternoster Row. Here, the nighte 
being quite dark, we were accosted by a man who was 
bearing a lanthorn. He was an honest-seeming fellow 
and from his habiliments, looked to be a servingman. 

‘T am commanded by my master,” said he, “to bid 
ye to his daughter’s wedding supper. He liveth hard 
by, in a fair and commodious house. The board is 
already laid and the musicians be awaiting. I prythee, 
follow me and I will conduct ye to the place.” 

“What manner of man is this,” exclaimed her 
Grace, “who doth send forth and bid strangers to the 
wedding feast of his daughter ? I knowe him not, nor 
is he acquaint with us. Have ye not made an error 
in this matter?” 

“Nay,” answered the servant, “I have made no 
error. My master commanded me to goe out into the 
streets and to bid all whom I met, of whatever degree, 
to the banquet. I have asked already full three score 
of people, gentlemen, roysterers, beggars, honest women 
and trulls, and having bid ye alsoe to the banquet, my 
labor is ended, as I take it that there will be of guests 
a plenty, such as they are.” 

“And what is the name of the man who giveth the 
feast?” asked her Grace. 

312 


THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING 


313 


“I knowe not his name, fair lady, as it was only 
this nighte that he tooke me into his service and I have 
had no chaunce to enquire into the matter. If ye are 
comeing to the banquet, make haste and follow me, 
as they are upon the point of beginning.’’ 

“And why not?” said her Majesty to Mistress Anne 
and me. “Here is certainly an adventure beyond the 
ordinary and that is the very thing which we came 
out for to see. Lead on, fellow,” said she to the man, 
“and we will see what manner of gentleman this is, 
who sendeth out into the highways and byways for 
his guests.” 

The serving man now led us into Warwick Lane 
and thence into several other streets, the names of 
which I knewe not, being a stranger to that part of 
the town, and finally brought us to a fair, large mansion 
which was brightly lighted with many candles. 

As we were a goeing into the door, her Grace asked 
the serving man : 

“Fellow, dost knowe why it is that thy master hath 
taken this singular way of bidding the guests to his 
banquet?” 

“Aye,” answered the man, “when he hired me, an 
hour agone, he was in a great rage, and said to me 
that he had asked to the feast some scores of his friends 
and people with whom he was acquaint, but that not a 
single soul of them had come, therefore,’ said he, ‘goe 
out into the streets’ and bid to the banquet any one and 
every one whom ye may meet. I care not who they 
may be, gentlemen or beggars, ladies or tavern wenches, 
soe long as ye get me enough of them,’ and with that, 
I came away and busying myself about the matter, have 
succeeded, my faith, in sending him a fine and goodly 
assortment.” 

“Why was it, I wonder,” remarked her Grace, 


314 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


‘'that the friends and acquaintances of this gentleman 
came not at his bidding?” 

When we had entered the house, we found there 
a mob of strangely assorted folk. There were a few 
gentlemen, who had come for the sport of the thing, 
and there were some honest women, who seemed trades- 
men’s wives or upper servants, but for the most part 
the men were roysterers, toss-pots and beggars and 
the women tap wenches, ballad singers and doxies. 

As we came in, the master of the house approached 
and seeing that we had a most respectable appearance, 
he greeted us warmly. 

He was a very tall man and as broad and burly as 
he was tall. His legs were as thick as posts, and his 
arms like those of a blacksmith and his neck like that 
of a bull. He had a long black beard, sprinkled with 
gray, which covered his face excepting his nose, eyes 
and forehead. His hedde was partly bald, his eyes 
small and twinkling and he had a little squeaking voice. 

He now tooke us over and presented us to his 
daughter and son-in-law. The girl had an ugly and 
sallow countenance but was clad in most rich and sump- 
tuous apparel, while the young man was a pusillanimous 
and insignificant fellow with a look upon his face as 
if he were ashamed of the businesse. 

The music now struck up and I, marking that the 
Queen and Mistress Anne were engaged in talking to 
the master of the house and to the bride and groom, 
and haveing made note, in a far corner of the chamber, 
of a handsome wench, with dark hair, sparkling eyes 
and a saucy mouth, I went over to her and asked her 
to tread a measure with me, which she very willingly 
consented to. 

After we had daunced awhile, I saw, out of the 
corner of my eye, that her Majesty was adauncing with 


THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING 


315 


the master of the house. Her Grace was a most excel- 
lent dauncer but the dauncing of the gentleman looked 
like nothing soe much as the gamboling of an elephant, 
soe that I was constrained to laugh heartily at the steps 
which he tooke. I was not soe well pleased, however, 
when I saw that Mistress Anne Bridges was alsoe 
adauncing and that she had for a partner a young and 
pretty gentleman. I therefore excused myself from 
the young woman whom I was with and waited until 
Mistress Anne was finished, that I mighte speke with 
her about the matter. 

“Who is the young popinjay whom I saw ye tread- 
ing a measure with?” asked I, as soon as I could get 
her alone. 

“I faith, I knowe not,” said she, “but he daunces 
in a most divine manner.” 

“What,” exclaimed I, “ye daunce with a princox 
with whom ye are not acquaint? Shame on ye for a 
wanton maid, to doe soe bold a thing.” 

Mistress Anne tossed her head disdainfully. 

“An if I should ask ye,” said she, “to tell me the 
name of the ill-favoured wench with whom I saw ye 
but a moment agone?” 

“Nay,” I answered, “I must confesse that I knowe 
not her name. But this is a different thing and a man 
may doe such a little matter without reproach.” 

“Soe that is your philosophy,” cried she, with a 
mocking looke. “Because ye are Lords of Creation 
ye think that ye may doe what ye list and no one to 
say ye nay. I would have ye to knowe, however, that 
what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander 
and alsoe that the pot may not call the kettle black.” 

“Besides the which,” said I, “she is not an ill- 
favoured wench, as ye have called her, but a passably 
fair and comely jade.’’ 


3i6 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

“I have always thought ye a fule,” she retorted, 
^‘and now I find that ye have exceeding bad taste into 
the bargain.” 

With that, she flung away and left me and would 
have naught to doe with me for the rest of that nighte. 
I was much grieved that she had quarreled with me 
in soe rude a way, and I pondered a long time without 
avail, to come at the cause of her displeasure. 

The doors of the banquet hall were now flung 
open and the crowd of people surged through them 
as if it were the Devil take the hindmost. I did not 
wonder at this indecorous haste, as I thought it likely 
that a considerable number of them had not had a 
goode square meal for many a day. 

When we were all come into the banquet chamber, 
the master of the house, who seemed to have taken a 
greate likeing to her Majesty, caused her to be seated 
at his righte hand. Mistress Anne Bridges sat at his 
left, while I was several seats removed, but not soe far 
that I could not hear what was said between them. 

“My Lady,” said the master of the house to her 
Grace, “what ye have exposed of your visage is soe 
handsome, that I would fain see the rest of it. I 
prythee, therefore, remove your mask and gladden me 
with a sight of your fair countenance.” 

“Nay,” answered her Majesty, “I may not do soe, 
for I wear this mask with a good and sufficient reason.” 

“It beseemeth me that I can hit upon the reason, 
fair one. Mayhap ye have a husband not far away, 
and are fearful of being seen by him.” 

“Let it goe at that,” answered the Queen. 

“I note alsoe that ye have a most beauteous neck, 
which is a delightsome thing in a woman. It is round 
and smooth and of a fair white color, and it is long, 
but not too long. It remindeth me of the neck of 


THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING 


317 

Mary, sometime Queen of Scotland, with this difference, 
that hers had not the fair whitenesse or smoothnesse 
of your Ladyship’s. Spekeing of ladies’ necks, puttes 
me in mind of the neck of Jane Gray, for which I had 
much admiration some thirty years agoe or more. In 
sooth, she had a most delightsome and dainty one and 
I mentioned the fact to her. Poor pretty child, it was 
a misfortune that the axe should fall upon it.” 

‘Tt beseemeth me,” said her Majesty, ‘‘that your 
mind doth run uncommonly upon this matter of 
women’s necks, that ye are, in fact, somewhat daffy 
upon the subject.” 

“It is indeed soe, your Ladyship. I had it from 
my father, who was a virtuoso in the matter. Even 
to this day, I may not see a handsome neck without 
desiring to dally with it. There have been men alsoe 
who were possessed of shapely necks, as for instance, 
Sir Thomas Wyatt, the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl 
of Arundel. I noted the fact well upon my last meet- 
ing with these gentlemen.” 

“Were ye acquaint with all these ladies and gentle- 
men of whom ye have spoken?” asked her Grace, in a 
surprised voice, “and how did ye come to knowe them?” 

“I met them all in the way of businesse, your Lady- 
ship.” 

“I prythee,” said the Queen, “tell me the nature of 
this businesse of yours.” 

“Nay, your Ladyship, I may not do soe, as I have 
taken an oath never to talk shoppe in company, other- 
wise it would please me mightily to discourse upon 
the matter.” 

When we had entered the house, her Majesty had 
commanded me to make enquiries as to the name of 
the gentleman who was giving the banquet, and I now 
turned to those who sat near me and asked them of 


3i8 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


the matter. They, however, had been bidden to the 
house in the same manner as ourselves and knewe no 
more of our host than we. 

As the nighte sped on, Her Grace and the master 
of the house seemed to come ever to a more amiable 
and intimate understanding with each other. I noted 
that, at one time, he was toying with her hand and 
once I perceived that he reached over and gave her a 
loveing pinch upon the neck. At this she made to 
putte on a look of anger, but I could see, nathelesse, 
that she was not soe mightily displeased. 

When her Majesty finally insisted upon withdraw- 
ing, the master of the house accompanied us to the 
door, where her Grace and he parted from each other 
as though they had been lovers for many years. 

“Saw ye ever such a courtly and handsome gentle- 
man?” said her Majesty, as we went toward the palace, 
“Saw ye ever such a greate, tall, fine figure of a man? 
I could give my heart for ever and aye to such a man.” 

Upon the morning of the next day Sir Walter 
Raleigh was present at the Queen’s audience. Her 
Majesty talked with him at greate length about the 
occurrences of the preceding nighte and he was soe 
goode as to tell me afterwards of all that was said upon 
that occasion. 

Her Grace haveing described with much detail how 
we were bid to the feast, and the appearance and the 
conversation of our host, Sir Walter pondered for a 
while most gravely and then said : 

“There are several unusual things about this busi- 
nesse which, taken together, should leave no doubt in 
our minds as to who this fellow is. It was a strange 
thing in the first place, that, of all the acquaintances 
whom he bid to the feast, none should come, soe that 
he was obliged to send out into the highways and by- 


THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING 


319 


ways for his guests. It was a strange thing that he 
should so dote upon a handsome neck in man or woman, 
and it was alsoe strange that he should have accointance 
of Mary of Scotland, Lady Gray and Masters Wyatt, 
Norfolk and Arundell, all of whom as your Grace 
knoweth, had their lives ended by the headsman’s axe. 
Then again, alsoe, he told your Grace that he met them 
all in the way of his businesse. Hath your Grace really 
and in truth, no suspicion as to the name and occupa- 
tion of this man who was your host?” 

“Nay,” answered the Queen, “I have no slightest 
intuition of the matter.” 

“Doth your Grace have knowledge of a man in 
London town, who goeth by the name of Simon Busby, 
or, in common parlance. Butcher Busby?” 

“Nay, goode Sir Walter, I knowe of no such man.” 

“And yet this same Butcher Busby hath been, for 
thirty years or more, the executioner or headsman of 
the realm.” 

“God’s death,” cried her Majesty, “but ye are but 
jesting.” 

“Nay, your Grace, I jest not, for the man can be 
no other than he. I would have lost a thousand crowns 
rather than that your Majesty should goe to that house.” 

“Ods bodykins, Grammercy and by my Halidom! 
I have drank and supped with the fellow and he hath 
made love to me and hath pinched my neck with his 
foul fingers. After what hath happened, this world is 
too small for the both of us. As thou lovest me, goode 
Sir Walter, set thy wits to work and devise presently 
something for ridding the earth of this obscene varlet.” 

“That is no easy matter, your Grace, for who will 
be found to behead the headsman? Nathelesse I am 
of the opinion that something may be done if we give 
the businesse sufficient thought.” 


320 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


Sir Walter pondered the matter for some minutes, 
her Majesty meanwhile awaiting the results of his 
meditation with greate impatience. 

“I think that I have a way of dealing with him,” 
said he at last, “though it will need some time for the 
working out of the details. Your Grace will recollect 
that the three Jesuit priests, Campion, Briand and Sher- 
win, who were convicted of heresy and treason and 
sentenced to be hung, drawn: and quartered at Tyburn, 
are now imprisoned in the tower, awaiting the time of 
their execution. Your Grace alsoe doth knowe that 
the carrying out of their sentence hath been deferred, 
owing to the present visit in London Town of his 
Royal Highnesse, the Duke d’Alengon, he being a 
devout Catholic and a Jesuit to boot, and it being 
thought the part of wisdom to postpone the pleasant 
task of extirpating these vermin until the Duke hath 
taken his departure, in order to spare his feelings, if 
he hath any, which I much doubt. Now I will goe 
straightway to this Master Busby and make represen- 
tations to him of the matter of these three Jesuits, and 
I will say to him that your Grace, though not willing 
to offend the Duke d’Alengon by their present public 
execution, would nathelesse be much pleased to have 
them worked off privately, and in such a manner, that 
it may be said that they died by their own hands or 
by an accident. This Simon Busby is an expert and 
an ingenious fellow in all that pertains to his craft, 
and I doubt not that he will invent some happy expedient 
for finishing off these rogues, the more so, as I will 
stimulate his faculties by the offer of a munificent 
reward. If now he takes the bait, which is a foregone 
conclusion, I will soe contrive, though the details are 
not yet perfected in my mind, to have him tumble into 
the very trap which he hath set for the Jesuits and soe 


THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING 


321 


your Grace will have much amusement and at the same 
time be avenged of the fellow and well rid of him.” 

'Tf ye mighte do this,” said her Majesty, 'T could 
love ye forever. There is the Grand Wardenship of 
the Stanaries vacant at the present moment, and ye 
shall have it if ye succeed in this businesse. Upon 
second thoughts, I would not have the man killed, but 
the nearer ye come to it without finishing him, the 
better it will please me.” 

It being soe arranged. Sir Walter sought out 
Master Busby and putte the matter before him soe suc- 
cessfully that Master Busby was convinced and at once 
set to work upon the undertaking. 

And soe it was that, upon the afternoon of the third 
day thereafter, I was summoned to Whitehall palace 
to goe with the Queen to the tower, that she mighte 
witnesse the executioner’s invention, there being of 
the company, her Majesty, her Majesty’s two maids 
of honor. Mistress Elizabeth Throckmorton, Mistress 
Anne Bridges, Sir Walter Raleigh and myself. 

We tooke the Queen’s barge and dropped down 
with the tide to the tower, and entering the waterway 
which leads under the Traitor’s gate, landed at the 
steps of the gate and went up through the Cradle 
tower, and passed into the small room in the stone arch 
above the water, where we found Butcher Busby 
awaiting that he mighte explain to us the merits of 
his invention. 

He made a profound obeisance to the Queen and it 
was plain to be seen that he had no suspicion of her 
identity with the masked lady of the banquet. 

“Your worships will note,” said he, in his small 
squeaking voice, “the three-legged table standing in 
the middle of the room, and the greate iron weight rest- 
ing upon it. Your worships will alsoe note the stout 

21 


322 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


hempen rope which is fastened to the weight and which 
runs up through the pulley on the ceiling and thence 
passes across the ceiling and out through a hole in the 
wall. This rope runs over another pulley, just under 
the eaves, upon the outside, and hangs down the wall, 
ending in a noose ; this noose surrounding the window, 
soe that it may not be seen from the inside of the 
chamber. 

He now went to the table and placed his hand upon 
one of its legs. 

“This leg of the table,” he continued, “is loose and 
most lightly pulled away. Your worships will now 
alsoe note that a small cord is tied to the bottom of 
the leg and that this cord runneth across the floor to 
a point just under the window. Here under the 
window, upon the floor, and against the wall, is some- 
thing which seemeth to be a step, but God help the 
man who, thinking soe, putteth his foot upon it. One 
end of this step rests upon a firm foundation, but the 
other end is held up by this same cord, which, as ye 
see, passes through an iron eye let into the wall, thence, 
down to the floor and through another eye and soe, 
across the floor, to the leg of the table. I will now 
exemplify to your worships the working of my contrap- 
tion. I goe out and fetch here one of the Jesuit gentle- 
men. When we are together in the room, I make some 
excuse for goeing down to speak with the officers at 
the gate, locking the door behind me as I leave. When 
I am at the gate I shout out loudly, ‘Make way for his 
Royal Highnesse, the Duke d’Alengon.’ The Jesuit 
gentleman at this, being greatly aminded to behold soe 
goode a Catholic and Jesuit as his Grace, will rush to 
the open window and thrust forth his hedde ; as, how- 
ever, the window is passable high from the floor, he 
cannot stretch his neck far enough to see what is hap- 


THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING 


323 


pening beneath, soe he puttes his foot upon the step 
under the window, in order to raise himself. At once 
the step falls, the cord pulls away the leg of the table, 
the table topples over, the weight falls to the floor, the 
noose tightens about the Jesuit’s neck and he is jerked 
upward until his shoulders strike the top of the window 
frame. When I have waited a few minutes, that his 
kicking may be done with, I goe up into the chamber, 
set the table up with the loose leg in place, lift the 
weight upon it, loose the rope from the man’s neck 
and tumble his body out of the window! into the canal. 
I then goe and fetch another of the Jesuit gentlemen, 
and soe on, until all three are despatched. What 
thinketh your Majesty of my invention?” 

‘T think,” said her Grace, “that it is a most fine 
and shrewd accomplishment and naught would please 
me soe much as to see the thing work out.” 

“Gadzooks, Master Busby,” exclaimed Sir Walter, 
“but ye are a most excellent mechanic. I bethink me, 
however, that Sherwin, one of these Jesuits, is a burly 
figure of a man and may not be able to squeeze his 
shoulders through the window, which is somewhat 
narrow. I prythee therefore make essay of the thing 
yourself, for ye are as broad of back as the priest and 
where ye goe, he may goe alsoe.” 1 

Master Busby went to the window and thrust his 
hedde and shoulders through it, at the same time being 
most careful not to putte his foot upon the step. 

“How doth this please your Worship?” he asked. 

“It doth please me uncommon well. Master Busby.” 

Saying this. Sir Walter made as if to stumble and 
kicked away the loose leg of the table. The table top- 
pled over, the weight fell to the floor, the noose tight- 
ened around Master Busby’s neck and he was jerked 
upward until his shoulders struck against the window 


324 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


frame. He sought vainly to loosen the rope from his 
neck and then he began to kick up and down and side- 
ways, like a jumping jack. Her Majesty at first 
laughed heartily at the most amusinge figure which he 
made, but presently her laughter, as well it mighte, 
became soe wild and strenuous that she fell in a sort 
of fit. 

Sir Walter and I picked her up, the one by the 
hedde and the other by the heels, and carried her 
through the door and into the Cradle Tower and thence, 
through the corridor into the apartments where she 
was wont to lodge when she stopped in the tower. Here 
we placed her upon a bed, and the two maids of honor 
and some other women who were in attendance, ran 
this way and that, one fetching camphor and another 
salts and this one water and the other one brandy and, 
in a short while she seemed to' come out of it and was 
resting quietly. 

I now spoke to Sir Walter and told him that I 
must goe down into the guard house of the tower, as 
it was time for me to send out the relief. 

“Shall I not goe first,’' said I, “and release Master 
Busby, before he chokes to death?” 

“Nay,” goode Master Roland,” said he, “goe down 
and send out the relief and I will myself release Master 
Busby.” 

Soe I went down and attended to the businesse and 
did not see Sir Walter until the next day. 

I asked him about the Queen and he said that she 
was fully recovered and that she had much entertain- 
ment from the whole matter. 

“And did ye release Master Busby in goode time?” 
I asked. 

“Great Caesar’s ghost!” he cried, “I forgot all about 
it.” 


THE ADVENTURE OE THE SPIRIT SITTING 

Not long after this 'I was summoned again one 
nighte to Whitehall Palace, where the Queen then was. 
Upon entering the audience chamber, I found myself 
alone, and while waiting for the appearance of her 
Majesty, I paced to and fro throughout the length of 
the room. 

Suddenly I heard myself spoken to in a voice which 
was in very sooth that of the Queen, though I could 
behold her Grace nowhere, notwithstanding that I 
looked diligently in every place. Her Majesty’s voice 
was of a harsh intonation, comeing somewhat through 
the nose and mighte not be confounded with the voice 
of any other person. 

“Did I not summon ye. Master Drake, to be present 
in this mine audience chamber, at eight of the clock, 
and hath not the clock struck a quarter hour agone? 
By the piper that played before Moses, ye are fifteen 
minutes upon the wrong side, and I would have ye to 
knowe that even for one-fifteenth of such delaye I have 
had rogues shortened by the hedde.” 

I was looking around like a fule with my nose in 
the air, to see where the Queen mighte be when all at 
once from a small latticed balcony above me there 
sounded a mocking laugh and looking up I spied the 
face of Mistress Anne Bridges, one of her Majesty’s 
Maids of Honor. Mayhap I have mentioned this fair 
damsel before. She was a young and handsome maid, 
of an exceeding merry and joyous soul, and though I 
had cast sheep’s eyes upon her and had whispered a 
many admiring words into her ear, yet had she thus 
far ever flouted me with her quips and jests. 


325 


326 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

Now when I saw Mistress Anne, I knewe that it 
was she who had spoken in the voice* of the Queen, for 
she had the gift to make her voice like unto the voice 
of any person she listed, and had often made amuse- 
ment for the Court as well alsoe much trouble and 
entanglement among persons about her by the use of 
this talent. 

“Knowest thou,” asked she presently, “why her 
Christian and Heavenly Grace hath sent for thee?” 

“Nay,” said 1. “Unless it be that she is minded 
to goe forth upon one of these her adventures.” 

“Aye, but whither, thinkest thou, doth her Grace 
propose to fare this nighte? In sooth, thou couldst 
not answer in an hundred years. Let me tell thee then 
that this nighte ye goe to meet and have converse with 
the spirits of the dead.” 

“But how may that be, fair Mistress Anne?” I 
asked, laughing. 

“I will tell thee. Thou must knowe that there be 
certaine persons in this town of London who, by gift 
of God or the Devil, have intercourse, or who assert 
that they have such intercourse with the spirits of those 
who have departed this earth. A person who hath 
this gift will, for a sufficient consideration in coin of 
the realm, summon this or that spirit to appear, that 
others who have not the gift may converse with the 
departed and question him as to the hereafter and of 
things generally upon the other side. Such a person 
is called a medium, for the reason that he or she is the 
medium by which we hold communication with these 
disembodied friends. It is to such a one, who keepeth 
a shop or meeting house for these purposes in the 
purlieus of Whitechapel that her Grace dbth purpose 
to goe this nighte. I am advised that Sir Walter 
Raleigh will fare with ye, and as he is of a scoffing 


THE SPIRIT SITTING 


327 


mind and would gibe at the Angel Gabriel himself, I 
apprehend that there will be much amusement toward.” 

“But how dost thou have such wide and certaine 
knowledge of these things? Here have I lived in 
London town a score of years and have heard naught 
of such inventions.” 

“How doe I knowe, thou zany? By naught else 
but haveing personal experience with the thing. Twice 
have I gone to this Madam Roncesvalles whom the 
Queen will visit tonighte, being at the same time ac- 
companied by certain others of the Queen’s maids, 
Howard, Baynham or Vavasour. There, upon my 
faith, we had a joyous time, conversing face to face 
with many distinguished people of the past, such as 
the Black Prince, Joan of Arc, Mary Stuart, Cardinal 
Woolsey and Richard Crookback. One thing nath- 
lesse, struck me as passing strange and sad, noe matter 
what learned and gentle folk these ghosts had been in 
the flesh, they had become smug and ignorant rogues, 
who mighte not even use the Queen’s English with a 
goode grace. I opine that her Majesty this nighte will 
desire to hold converse with the departed members of 
her family. Would that I mighte be there to hear. 
Nathlesse I must be content to get the thing at second 
hand. I prythee remember all and tell it to me later.” 

At this moment the Queen and Sir Walter came 
into the chamber and Mistress Anne withdrew from 
the balcony. 

When we were come, her Majesty, Sir Walter 
Raleigh and I, to the house of Madam Roncevalles, we 
found ourselves in a large room, in the center of which 
stood a tent of velvet cloath about four cubits in height 
and the same in diameter. Before this tent we sat 
down around a table, there being four of us, >ve three 
and the mistress of the house. We then tooke hold 


328 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


of hands, soe that we made a circle around the table 
and the candles were extinguished soe that the room 
was in complete darkness. 

Presently there came a sound from beneath the 
table as of the rappings of a drumstick upon the boards. 

“What is that?” asked the Queen. 

“These be the rappings of the spirits who desire to 
enter the house,” answered Madam Roncevalles. 

“For God’s sake,” said Sir Walter, “let them come 
in, as the nighte is chill without and these gentry, be- 
sides haveing noe cloathes, are blessed with little or noe 
flesh upon their bones.” 

All at once there came a swishing sound and we 
felt a rushing wind upon our faces. 

“Pardy,” exclaimed her Majesty, “it beseemeth me 
that I am sitting in a foul draught.” 

“Nay,” answered the mistress of the house, “’tis the 
rushing of the spirits as they enter the room.” 

“In sooth ye say truly,” said Sir Walter, making 
as if to brush an insect from his ear, “for one of them 
hath just touched me with the tip of his wing.” 

“And what would your fair Ladyship knowe of 
the spirits?” asked Madame Roncevalles. 

“I would knowe something of Heaven, Mistress.” 

“Mayhap this present swarm, which hath just now 
entered, is not from that place,” remarked Sir Walter. 

“Nay,” exclaimed the woman, “these be all good 
spirits.” 

“I would fain hear from my departed friends and 
kindred,” continued the Queen. 

“Then,” said Sir Walter, “ye had better send them 
all back and summon the other crowd.” 

“Ask now what ye will of these spirits,” said Mis- 
tress Roncevalles, “and they will answer ye by rapping, 
a single rap for aye and a double rap for nay.” 


THE SPIRIT SITTING 


329 


‘T would knowe,” asked the Queen, “if perchance 
some dere friends whom I have lately lost be now in 
Heaven 

At once there came a double knock under the table. 

“The spirit saith noe,” exclaimed Sir Walter. 

“Nay,” said Mistress Roncevalles, “it is more likely 
that the spirit meant that there be two of them in that 
Celestial Place.” 

“By the rood,” remarked Sir Walter, “I see that 
these raps have many meanings. Thus a double rap 
may signify ‘noe, or two’ or ‘good morrow, friend’ or 
‘God be with ye.’ My faith, ’tis a simple language 
and easily conned.” 

“Hush,” exclaimed the mistress of the house, “I 
perceive that they are about to give us some music.” 
Even as she spoke there sounded in the chamber the 
strains of a stringed instrument. It was now from 
here and now from there, but whence it really came we 
knewe not. Then Sir Walter spake: 

“Mistress, ye have said that these spirits were from 
Heaven. Nathlesse as my ear hath perceived some 
discord in the strain, it were best, it beseemeth me, that 
they should be instructed by a music master. More- 
over, if this be the music of Heaven, then I to the other 
place.” 

“If now,” said Mistress Roncevalles, “your sweet 
Ladyship would speke face to face with any of your 
kindred or accointance who have departed this life, ye 
may ask for such by name and they will appear before 
thee as when ye saw them last.” 

“I would fain speke with his Majesty Henry the 
Eighth, sometime King of England,” said her Grace. 

“It may be,” interposed Sir Walter, “that as he 
was in a loose and decayed condition when he went 
hence, his Majesty will find it a grievous matter to get 


330 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


himself together in proper shape for such appearance. 
Nathlesse, I see that he hath done soe.” 

As he spoke a dim ray of light fell from somewhere 
across the front of the tent, the flap of the tent opened 
and in the aperture appeared the face of that great 
monarch as we see him in his portraits. 

“What would ye?” said he in a sepulchral voice, 
“who called upon me? Ah, I see thee now. ’Tis 
Elizabeth, my child. I have not looked upon thee since 
thou wert a babe, but I would knowe a Tudor among 
a thousand. Make haste and tell me what it is thou 
dost desire, as I have pressing businesse which may 
not be putte aside.” 

“Art thou happy, Father?” 

“Aye, my child, reasonably soe, although I would 
be happier were thy mother and the other five of my 
royal consorts in Heaven.” 

“And are they not in Heaven with thee, sire?” 

“Nay, my child. I said not that I was in Heaven.” 

“Then they are' with thee, sire, are they not?” 

“Aye, my child the whole six of them. Five of 
them were sent here originally, upon which, Catherine 
of Aragon came and broke into the place, notwithstand- 
ing that the Master and all his assistants strove might- 
ily to keep her out.” 

“My sire, thou didst speke of some pressing busi- 
nesse which thou couldst not putte aside. I prythee 
tell me the nature of this businesse.” 

“I was playing a game of skittles with Clement the 
Seventh.” 

“But I thought, sire, that thou and he had many 
differences upon earth.” 

“Aye, my child, soe in sooth we had. When, how- 
ever, we came here upon common ground, we found 
that we were both aiming at one and the same thing and 


THE SPIRIT SITTING 


331 


soe became goode friends. The fact is that he meant 
as little by his prayers as I by my oaths and there thou 
art. He is not the only one of his cloath in this place. 
Peter Borgia is even now setting up the pins for us.” 

'‘Now I knowe,” whispered Sir Walter, “where his 
Majesty now is.” 

“Is there no wish, sire, unfulfilled which I may 
carry out for thee?” 

“Aye, there was a man whom I wished to chop 
the hedde from, but at that time I came hence.” 

“Tell me his name, I prythee, sire, and the thing 
shall be done.” 

The shadow of the King, looked troubled as though 
he struggled with a poor memory, then suddenly the 
whole thing faded away, and the light vanished. 

“Whom will your fair Ladyship have me summon 
now?” asked Mistress Roncevalles. 

“I would Speke with Mary Stuart, at one time 
Queen of Scotland.” 

“Ods Bodikins, your Grace,” exclaimed Sir Walter. 
“Pray take my advice and ask for someone else.” 

“Nay, I would see if the jade, now that her fair 
face hath been the food for worms, is as proud as once 
she was.” 

That same dim light fell once more athwart the 
flap of the tent, an aperture appeared and within it was 
framed the face of Mary Stuart, as beautiful as ever 
but of a ghostly pallor.” 

“Good morrow. Cousin of Scotland,” quoth Queen 
Elizabeth. “How doth it fare with thee in the place 
where thou art?” 

“Elizabeth of England, I will answer honestly and 
to the point. It fareth extremely well with me in my 
present state. I could, nathlesse, be happier if it were 
not for two or three small matters of shame, one of 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


332 

which is that I am in some small degree thy relative/’ 

“Ha, sayest thou soe? I see that the manner of 
thy taking off doth rankle still in thy breast.” 

“Nay, I have long since come to the belief that it 
was for the best. There is one thing alsoe that would 
have reconciled me fully at the time to the cutting off 
of my hedde.” 

“And what was that, fair Cousin?” 

“If I had had a face like thine, Elizabeth.” 

“Nay, but many men have said that I was beauti- 
ful.” 

“Aye, they have called thee wise and beautiful and 
good, but in thy heart thou dost knowe well that they 
be all liars.” 

“By all the saints, thou hast a sharp tongue and a 
proud heart for a woman who hath murthered her own 
husband.” 

“Nay, I can say calmly and truthfully that I was 
guiltlesse of that crime and that I knewe naught about 
the thing until it was done. For that matter the man 
was of a weak, low and wicked nature and the world 
was better that he was putte out of it, just as alsoe there 
would be great profit to the earth in thine own taking 
off. Thou art like the pot calling the kettle black. 
Didst thou not send privately to Sir Amyas Paulet, 
my gaoler, and desire him that he mighte secretly 
murther me, that thou mightest be rid of the odium 
of signing my death warrant?” 

“What I did, thou scarlet woman, was for the 
goode of the State and for that reason only.” 

“Dost thou think, thou vain fule, to carry off a lie 
with a spirit, who doth knowe thy inmost thoughts? 
It is a singular commentary that, while thou dost call 
me the scarlet woman, thou hast got thyself intituled 
the Virgin Queen. I tell thee that thy Father Henry, 


THE SPIRIT SITTING 


333 


even at the latter end, a seething mass of corruption, 
ten thousand times a murtherer and with all the devils 
in hell fighting for his bloated and loathsome carcass, 
was not worse than thou art at the present time. Thou 
art a Protestant for the reason only that thy sister 
Mary was a Papist. Thou hast murthered the Papists 
only for the reason that she murthered the Protestants. 
There hath noe goode thing been done in England dur- 
ing thy reign save what thy ministers have brought 
about against thy will. Thou art filled up with 
wretched vanity, a most foul hypocrite, thou art a 
penurious jezebel, an envious and toothless old cat, a 
slanderer, a liar, thou excellest in wantonness, in filthy 
profanity and sacriledge, thou hast murthered the 
innocents by thousands, thou hast putte the guiltlesse 
to torture. I say to thee that, in all hell there is noe 
place for such a hag as thou.” 

Our goode Queen Elizabeth was by this time soe 
filled with a white rage, that she trembled violently 
from head to foot, without being able to bring forth a 
single word in answer, though she strove her utmost. 
As the face of Mary Stuart faded away in the dark- 
nesse. Sir Walter remarked : 

“It beseemeth me, your Grace, that Mary Stuart 
mighte be somewhat better disposed toward your Grace 
than she now is. I have always believed in the old 
adage that it is better to let sleeping dogs lie.” 

When her Christian Grace was somewhat recov- 
ered from her just indignation she expressed a desire 
to see and converse with Anne Bullen, her sainted 
mother and the second spouse of King Henry, and 
shortly after, there appeared in that faintly luminous 
glow the face of that once merry and coquettish beauty 
of the Court of Queen Catherine. 

“Doe I see before me the beauteous face of my long 


334 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


lost mother?” asked the Queen, though in sooth she 
must have known that she saw it. 

“Aye, my daughter, such as I am, I stand before 
thee.” 

“Why dost thou say, ‘such as I am’?” 

“For the reason, my child, that when my hedde, 
after being stricken off, was replaced upon my shoul- 
ders, it was putte on wrong side before, soe that now, 
notwithstanding that thou seest my face, yet is my 
back toward thee. For which apparent lack of cour- 
tesy, I prythee pardon me.” 

“Fair your Grace, I grieve that such is the case. 
But didst thou knowe me to be thy daughter, before I 
spake to thee?” 

“Aye, daughter, I knewe thee by thy red hair, and 
by the by, that same red hair of thine was primarily 
the cause of my decapitation. It is needlesse to goe 
into the details of the matter and besides, I see that 
thou hast company with thee.” 

“And art thou happy in thy present condition, and 
are the other five of the consorts of my Royal father 
with thee?” 

“Aye, my child, they be all here in this same place, 
and we be reasonably contented, haveing much interest 
to occupy our time. We have, in sooth, founded an 
association intituled the Society of the Wives of Henry 
the Eighth, of which, Catherine of Aragon, by reason 
of priority and seniority is the dean.” 

“And what doe they doe in this society?” 

“A many thing, but chiefly it is our businesse to 
goe each day at a certaine time to visit and entertain 
your royal father. After talking to him altogether for 
the space of two hours, he is soe consumed with rage 
that he falleth in a fit, and soe noe more until the next 
day. The master of the place doth take greate credit 


THE SPIRIT SITTING 


335 


to himself for the invention of this mode of torture and 
doth avow that it is the best he hath. But the hour 
for this businesse is even now striking and I hear the 
call thereof, God be with thee and farewell.” 

Saying this, the hedde of Anne Bullen vanished 
and our Gracious Queen desired that the spirit of her 
sister, Mary Tudor, sometimes called Bloody Mary, be 
summoned before her. 

The face that now appeared was that of a sickly, 
pale, slabsided ghost, some thirty years of age or there- 
abouts. 

“I bid thee goode even, sweet sister,” said the 
Queen. 

“The same to thee, my much beloved Elizabeth.” 

“Beshrew me but it warmeth my heart to see thee 
once again.” 

“And I could weep for joy at this meeting, were 
I not a spirit; but how now my love, when I left thee 
thou wert but a child, and now I find thee, full thirty 
years my senior.” 

“How may that be fair sister, when I am but thirty- 
two next Candlemass?” 

“What, thirty-two, dere friend? If that be soe, 
then thou dost seem old enough to be thine own 
mother.” 

“Ha, my beloved sister, thou art pleased to jest. 
And if I were in the same mood, I should say that thy 
chalk-like face, ghastly from lying with the worms 
these many years, doth ill accord with thy universal 
cognomen of Bloody Mary.” 

“And doe they call me that, fair Coz? Then in 
sooth, thou shouldst be named the 'Gory Elizabeth.’ I 
only purged the earth of a few whining heretics, but 
thou hast drenched the land with the blood of true 
believers.” 


336 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

“What, callest thou those shaveling priests true be- 
lievers, those bead-telling rogues whom I have chased 
hither and yon like a pack of scared rabbits? ’Twere 
as well to call that Master rogue of all. King Philip of 
Spain, thy consort, a true believer. Then is even the 
Devil himself a true believer?” 

“Nay, Elizabeth, say naught against my husband 
Philip, for he was a goode and saintly man. I loved 
him and he loves my memory even now.” 

“What ! loves thy memory? This in sooth is a goode 
jest. Knowe ye not that, while yet thou didst lie in 
thy coffin, unburied, the knave came acourting of me?” 

“Nay, there my beloved sister, thou best.” 

For answer her Christian Majesty tooke her reti- 
cule, which contained something of a heavy nature and 
threw it with great force at the head of Mary Tudor. 
The ghost, however, ducked behind the curtain and 
at the same time the light vanished. 

Mistress Roncevalles now went to fetch lighted 
candles and Sir Walter, drawing me to one side, said : 

“I doubt me not that this whole matter is a piece 
of great roguery and it behooveth us to lay hands upon 
the rascals. I will wager my soul that there be five 
or six of the villains, male and female, within this tent. 
I will stand at the front thus, and goe thou toi the rear 
where I opine that there is another entrance, soe that 
when the lights come, we will have them in the toils.” 

I went around to the back of the tent as he re- 
quested, and presently some person glided out of the 
tent and rushed headlong into my arms. I felt of the 
body of the ghost over carefully with my hands, taking 
infinite pains with the businesse, and came to the con- 
clusion that it was the form of a woman which I held, 
somewhat slender, but well rounded and both young 
and graceful. She had a quantity of soft hair which 


THE SPIRIT SITTING 


337 

brushed against my face and neck and which had more- 
over a perfume which seemed familiar to me. 

“Master Roland,” spoke a sweet voice in a very 
low tone, “if ye have felt of me what is necessary, I 
prythee let me goe, as I dread the anger of the Queen, 
should she discover me.” 

“For a kiss, Mistress Anne, I will let thee goe free,” 
said I. 

She made as if to give it to me and I released her. 
But instead of a kiss, she gave me a buffet upon the 
ear and fled by some unseen door from the room. 

When the candles were brought, we entered the 
tent. Sir Walter and I, at the same time, but found no 
one. Upon the floor, however, there lay several masks, 
wigs and other paraphernalia. 

“Who is it?” asked Sir Walter of me. 

“There was no one,” answered I. 

He putte his tongue into his cheek and said nothing 
more about the businesse. When I next saw Mistress 
Anne Bridges, she swore that it was not she whom I 
had held in my arms and that she had not been out of 
Whitehall Palace that nighte. 


22 


THE ADVENTURE OE THE HOLY HEALERS 

The Queen being at that time lodged at her palace 
of Whitehall, entertained upon a Sunday nighte at 
supper several gentlemen and the supper being finished 
and some of the guests haveing departed, there remained 
with her Majesty Sir Walter Raleigh and myself. 

There were present with us alsoe two of the maids 
of honor, namely, Mistress Elizabeth Throckmorton, 
she for whom Sir Walter was shortly afterward sent 
to the tower, and Mistress Ann Bridges, whom mayhap 
I have before mentioned, and it was at this time that 
Sir Walter spoke to her Majesty of a certaine new 
religious sect which had lately been established in 
London town. 

'These people,’' said he, "call themselves the holy 
healers, for a reason which I shall later make clear to 
your Grace, and they worship in a small church which 
may be found upon the left side of the street as one 
goeth up Ludgate hill. This sect, or cult, or society 
was founded by a most shrewd person, a woman, who 
goeth by the name of Mary Baker and who now doth 
live in great affluence, needing nothing, by reason of 
the many contributions and great largesse made to her 
by the numerous believers in her teachings.” 

"As far as concerneth their mode of worship I am 
constrained to say that they appear to conform in all 
particulars to the tenets of your Grace’s most holy 
Protestant religion, so that I see not at present, the 
more’s the pity, how the organization may be disrupted 
and the members of the church burned or hung, drawn 
and quartered. Haply, however, we may find a means 
later to bring about that most desirable end.” 

338 


THE HOLY HEALERS 


339 


Where these people differ from the adherents of 
other creeds, Protestants, papists or devil worshipers, 
is in their belief in regard to sicknesse, pains and broken 
bones. According to their teachings these things be 
only in the imagination. If a man suffers from any 
malady whatsoever, or hath a broken leg or a grievous 
pain in the guts, it is only because he thinketh that it is 
soe. If therefore he can bring himself to think stead- 
fastly and with perfect faith and belief that it is not 
soe, then is he not sicke, but well, his leg is whole and 
his guts ache not.” 

“This that ye tell me about these folk,” said her 
Majesty, “is a strange thing and it beseemeth me that 
it is unorthodox. It may be though, as ye have said, 
that we have not as yet enough ground for proceeding 
against them. In the case, however, that some of these 
gentry were afflicted with the King’s evil and, in lieu 
of scratching themselves and waiting decently for the 
day when I permit my person to be touched for the 
cure of that disorder, they should take it upon them- 
selves to cure themselves by this new fashion of physic, 
thus taking away my royal prerogative, it beseemeth 
me that we mighte then have good grounds for have- 
ing them all soundly whipped, even if we mighte not 
hang or burn them at the stake.” 

“Your Grace sayeth well,” said Sir Walter, “we 
will look into this matter and if divers of them are 
seen scratching themselves and it is found afterward 
that there is an abatement in their soe doeing before 
the yearly day when your Grace is touched for that 
evil, we will knowe that they have had recourse to this 
new-fangled remedy and will at once have them laid 
by the heels. I must alsoe make known to your Grace 
some further particulars about this new cult of healing. 
In the more grievous maladies and the more painful 


340 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


burns and bruises, while the afflicted person is thinking, 
steadfastly and stoutly, that he hath no malady, to the 
end that it may be as he thinketh, certaine other mem- 
bers of the society set themselves to the same thing, and 
all together thinking, soulfully, wishfully and with 
much faith that the man is not sicke but well, very 
shortly and without haveing recourse to drugs and 
physics he recovereth from his illness. These certaine 
members who aid the patient in this manner are called 
healers and have had instruction in the art from the 
woman who founded the order and alsoe from the 
learned deacons and elders of the society.” 

“Ordinarily the healer goeth to the house of the 
sicke person, and sitting by his bedside, taketh him by 
the hand and giveth him the thought treatment. It is 
not, however, needful that the healer should be abso- 
lutely in the presence of the patient. He may be in 
another chamber, or another house, or a mile away, or 
an hundred miles away. Though his body may be 
absent, yet is his spirit present with the sicke man, and 
his thinking availeth just the same. This is what they 
call the absent treatment and it beseemeth me to be a 
most easy and convenient manner of practice and one 
which I should choose at all times were I a physician 
of that school.” 

“The doctors of London town, who would in sooth 
starve to death were all men of this same belief, have 
no love for them and give utterance to many scurrilous 
sayings in their regard, yet it striketh me that these 
healers have the better of the argument. Tis true that 
now and then one of their patients may die from lack 
of medicine, but on the other hand, and meanwhile, the 
physicians, with their drugs, poisons and leechings, will 
work off a dozen at the least.” 

“Sir Walter,” said her Majesty, “I have much in- 


THE HOLY HEALERS 


341 


terest in this thing whereof ye have spoken and when 
I am next taken with a pain or ache, I will send for 
one of these healers and essay his method of treatment. 
If he faileth to aid me, there is nothing lost and I can 
have the rogue putte in the stocks for his quackery. 
Meanwhile I am much aminded to visit this church 
of which ye have spoken, that I may see these people 
and take cognizance in person of their proceedings.” 

‘‘There is nothing easier, your Grace,” said Sir 
Walter, “and there is no better time than the present, 
as the congregation doubtlesse is sitting at this very 
moment. We can take a boat at the palace steps, and 
proceeding down the Thames and up the River Fleet, 
can land within the quarter hour at the Fleet Prison 
gate, from where it is but a step to the meeting house 
of which I spoke.” 

Her Majesty consenting to the matter, the royal 
barge was ordered brought to the water gate of the 
palace and when her Grace and the two maids of honor 
had putte on such disguisement as they were wont to 
use on these occasions, we embarked and set out upon 
the adventure with joyous hearts. 

When we had floated down with the tide as far 
as Fleet River, we were rowed up that stream to the 
landing at the gates of the Fleet prison, where we left 
the boat and continued our way on foot, passing along 
the Farringdon street and over the Fleet river bridge, 
until we got to Lud Gate. 

Upon either side of Lud Gate there is a column of 
stone and upon one of these columns there stood at 
that time, and there stands even to this day, a fair 
statue made in resemblance of her Majesty, and when 
we had stopped and admired it, we passed on a few 
steps until we came to the Belle Sauvage Tavern. Sir 
Walter now proposed that we goe into the tavern, 


342 


ALRASCHID IN PRTTICOATES 


which is a famous hostelry, and rest awhile, which we 
did. 

And when Sir Walter had ordered at his own 
charge divers and sundry measures of ale, sack, sherris 
and Hollands, and when we had all drank of the same, 
her Grace spoke again of her statue which stood upon 
Lud Gate and lamented the fact that there was no 
statue upon the opposite column, by reason of which 
there was a lack of symmetry in the look of the whole 
businesse. 

“Pardon me, your Grace,” said Sir Walter, “but 
your Grace is surely in error about this thing. Are 
there not two effigies of your Grace upon the gate, one 
upon either column?” 

“Nay,” answered the Queen, “ye doe but jest about 
the matter, there is but the one effigy, as we did note 
but a moment ago.” 

“I will bet my hat,” said Sir Walter, “that there 
be two of them. Let us goe back and see.” 

So we went back to the gate again and when we 
were come over in front of it, Sir Walter asked her 
Majesty : 

“Doth your Grace not perceive two effigies of your 
Majesty, one upon either side?” 

“Aye,” answered the Queen, “I doe indeed per- 
ceive two of them, but whether one is upon the one side 
and the other upon the other side, I cannot say at the 
present moment. It beseemeth me alsoe that they be 
not well and solidly fixed in their places, whereby they 
seem to move from side to side. This is a grievous 
error in workmanship and the matter must be rectified 
upon the morrow.” 

Then Sir Walter asked the two maids of honor and 
myself whether there were not two effigies upon the 
gate, and since her Grace had said that there were two 


THE HOLY HEALERS 


343 

and it would not be mete for us to say otherwise, we 
alsoe said that there were two. 

Now I marveled at this that her Grace should see 
two statues upon the gate, when in reality there was 
but the one. Sir Walter was surely something of a 
necromancer that he should; influence her Grace in that 
manner. 

We now went forward to the meeting house of the 
holy healers, which stood a short distance beyond the 
Belle Sauvage Tavern, and when we were come to the 
door of the place, we entered, with a joyous and Chris- 
tian spirit, and tooke our seats upon a bench in the back 
part of the church. 

There was a goodly concourse of people present and 
the preacher was comeing to the end of his discourse 
as we entered. Sir Walter looked around upon the 
congregation. 

‘T perceive,” said he, “that we are come into an 
assemblage of short-haired women and long-haired men. 
The two kinds may ever be found together and I will 
wager my soul against a pint pot that there is no single 
one of them who hath not bats in the belfry.” 

The preacher, who was a tall, lank figure, with a 
long beard and blue spectacles, now finished with his 
tenthly and soe concluded his sermon, after which, 
there came a hymn and the benediction. 

“Now,” said he, “if there be any here who are 
in need of healing, let them come forward.” 

At which, divers persons, who seemed to be halt, 
blind or sicke, came forward to the altar rail. Each 
of these he questioned and then, making known the 
nature of their infirmities to the congregation, he asked 
the people there present to give them treatment. 

One after the other these halt, blind and sicke per- 
sons were then given the treatment, the assemblage 


344 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


sitting silent in each case for the space of five minutes, 
all lookeing fixedly before them and haveing the ap- 
pearance of thinking steadfastly and soulfully. Whether, 
however, any of the afflicted received benefit from the 
proceeding, I knowe not. Sir Walter now spoke to 
us in a low tone of voice: 

“Let us get into this game,” said he, “for I appre- 
hend that there may be much amusement in the thing. 
It beseemeth me that it mighte be well should one of 
us take this thought treatment. How is it, good 
Master Roland, have ye not a grievous pain in the 
bowels, or elsewhere?” 

“Nay,” said Mistress Ann Bridges, who had cun- 
ningly swathed her righte hand in a handkerchief, “I 
have, as ye see, a scalded hand. I prythee, desire for 
me this thought treatment, that the pain of it may be 
abated.” 

Sir Walter arose and addressed the minister : 

“Fair and reverend sir,” said he, “I have here a 
young and beauteous maid, who hath rudely scalded 
her hand in takeing a pot of boiling water from the 
fire, and who doth suffer greate pain by reason of it. 
I pray therefore that treatment be given her by the 
congregation soe that she may suffer no more from 
this grievous hurt.” 

Sir Walter was a man well known throughout the 
length and breadth of London Town and it was plain 
that the minister had accointance of his face and person. 

“Good Sir Walter,” said he, “it pleaseth me that 
a gentleman of your rank and accomplishments should 
be found among us and I promise ye that the damsel 
shall be healed if it lies within the power of our faith. 
Let her then step forward before the pulpit and our 
thoughts will at once goe out to her.” 

With that. Mistress Ann Bridges, holding her band- 


THE HOLY HEALERS 


345 


aged hand aloft, and with a demure and suffering 
countenance, went forward and stood before thie altar 
rail and the congregation, as mighte be seen from their 
rapt and concentrated looke, fixed their thoughts upon 
her. At the end of several minutes the preacher said : 

“How is it with thee now? Dost feel a lessening 
of thy affliction?” 

“Aye,” answered Mistress Anne, “I doe feel a most 
wonderful improvement in the matter, in sooth, if I 
am not mistaken, the whole malady hath gone away 
entirely.” 

With that, she tore the handkerchief away and held 
up her hand, which was white and of great prettinesse, 
and when all the people present saw that it was quite 
whole, sound and smooth, they cried out for joy and 
thanked God for this evidence of his favour. 

The minister now arose again and addressed his 
flock : 

“As ye all knowe,” said he, “our goode and worthy 
fellowe worshipper and communicant, Master Ephraim 
Smug, the linen draper, hath been most foully and 
wrongfully apprehended and putte into the Fleet prison, 
for the reason that he did say that the Bishop of 
London was a fat old cozzener and a sleek hypocrite. 
Let us therefore thinke, with all our mighte and 
strength, for the space of a full quarter hour, to the 
end that he may presently be released from durance 
vile and brought once more back to our fold.” 

The congregation at once went into the businesse 
of thinking this master Smug out of goal and I was 
meditating upon the folly of it when the Queen turned 
to us and spoke : 

“It is in sooth a shame that this Master Smug 
should be cast into prison for that he did simply speke 
the truth. I have myself said worse things about the 


346 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

old rogue and I do most heartily thank this Ephraim 
Smug for so exactly expressing my sentiments in the 
matter. Goode Master Roland, here is my signet ring. 
Hie thee at once to the Fleet prison, show my ring to 
the warden, have him release instantly this Ephraim 
Smug, and when the man is let out, bring him straight- 
way here. In this manner I will perform a miracle 
for these people, the which will be an occasion for rare 
sport.” 

I at once tooke her Majesty’s ring, and slipping 
out of the door of the church, hastened to the Fleet 
prison which, as all men knowe, is but a short distance 
from Ludgate Hill. When I was come to the prison 
door, I accosted the guard and sent him for the 
warden, and when this officer appeared, which he did 
without delay, I showed him the Queen’s signet ring 
and delivered to him her Grace’s commands. He at 
once sent and had the prisoner fetched and gave him 
his liberty, and when I bade Master Smug goe at once 
to the Meeting House, he tooke to his heels and ran 
with such swiftnesse that he came into the church 
before the quarter hour was up, I following as best I 
could and entering the door at his heels. The people 
there present suddenly perceived Master Smug in their 
midst, whereupon, takeing it for certaine that they had 
thought him out of goal, they set up a greate shout 
and glorified God amazingly. 

A man now came into the church in greate haste 
and delivered a letter to the preacher who, when he 
had read the same, again addressed the congregation: 

“I have here,” said he, “a message from the goode 
wife of our beloved brother and fellow worshipper. 
Master Josiah Pethridge. She informs me therein 
that he lyeth sicke unto death with a dangerous malady, 
and that his end doth fast approach. She alsoe doth 


THE HOLY HEALERS 


347 


pray that we doe give him our most soulful thoughts, 
that he may live and not die. As ye well knowe, 
Brother Pethridge is a pillar of our society and we can 
ill spare him. Let us therefore, for another quarter 
hour, give him our most steadfast and healing thoughts 
that thereby he may be brought out of the peril in 
which he lyeth.” 

Sir Walter now turned to us and spoke covertly : 

“I knowe this Master Pethridge well, and I knowe 
him to be a most pestiferous person. He is of those 
who meet one in the street during the dog days and 
say, Ts this hot enough for ye?’ and of those who, 
when a man hath slipped upon orange peel and fallen 
into the gutter, say to him, ‘Ha, friend, hast thou fal- 
len?’ When all mighte knowe that he had indeed 
fallen. He alsoe for many years hath persisted in 
narrating the shrewd sayings of his infant children 
and of his grandchildren and now that he is in his 
dotage, if the day is hot or cold, he sayeth how it was 
much hotter or colder upon a certaine day some forty 
years agone. As Will Shakespeare says, ‘It is a poor 
rule which will not work both ways,’ therefore, in the 
Devil’s name, while these people are thinking toward 
his recovery, let us thinke earnestly and devoutly to the 
contrary, by which, mayhap, it may come to pass that 
he will pass away and soe the world be rid of a foul 
nuisance.” 

According to Sir Walter’s suggestion we at once 
set ourselves to the businesse and we must have thought 
to some purpose, for before the quarter hour was gone 
the same man came again in haste into the meeting 
house and announced that Master Pethridge was no 
more. 

“Ha,” exclaimed her Majesty, “I perceive that 
there is something in this thing after all and further- 


34B alraschid in petticoates 


more that the practice of this science may be found of 
greate value. If I had been accointed in past days with 
this fine method of working people off, Mary of Scot- 
land would have given me no such bother and I would 
have escaped the neede of signing her warrant. In 
sooth I mind me of a dozen cases where it would have 
come in handy and I propose, from this day on, to 
experiment with this thought treatment upon certaine 
persons who, for the goode of the world, would be 
better out of it than in it.” 

Sir Walter now said to me : 

“Goode Master Roland, I perceive that there is 
matter of amusement toward. As we came in, I made 
note, in the lane which turneth down past the meeting 
house, of an area which leadeth to the cellar of the 
church. In this area was a pile of rags, straw and 
rubbish. Here is my tinder box. I prythee, take it, 
slip out privily and set fire to this rubbish. As the 
walls be of stone there will be no danger of fire, but 
the smoke entering the cellar and comeing up through 
the floor will make them to thinke that the house is 
burning, soe that they will be putte to thinking to some 
purpose. 

I went privily out, as Sir Walter requested and set 
fire to the rubbish in several places. When I again 
came into the church and told Sir Walter that I had 
done even as he wished. Sir Walter arose and addressed 
the minister. 

“Fair and reverend Sir,” said he, “Ye have done 
marvelous things tonighte, ye have cured the sicke and 
healed the wounded and have even thought Master 
Smug out of goal. I perceive that there is much 
virtue in this new religion and I bethink me now that 
ye mighte with ease carry the thing further; for in- 
stance, if a man who could not swim should fall into 


THE HOLY HEALERS 


349 


the water, mighte he not, by thinking strongly and 
fervently, escape drowning and come safely to land?” 

“Aye, Sir Walter,” answered the preacher, “if he 
had faith sufficient.” 

“And if a house where a man was should take fire 
and he sought not to putte out the flames, but should 
think steadfastly and soulfully that there was no fire, 
mighte it not be as he thought?” 

“Aye, Sir Walter, provided that his faith was 
greate enough.” 

By this time the smoke began to come through the 
floor of the house, though the people had not as yet 
marked it. 

“I am rejoiced to hear ye say soe,” said Sir Walter, 
“for I perceive that this meeting house is burning even 
at the present moment. Let us then altogether think 
resolutely and with greate faith that there is no fire, 
soe that presently it will be extinguished and we may 
sit here yet awhile in safety.” 

At this, however, all the congregation arose, and 
putting aside the matter of thinking, made a greate 
and frenzied rush for the door, the men trampling upon 
the women, as this sorte does, and the preacher lead- 
ing them all in his rude struggle to get outside. 

We five, however, sat upon our benches calmly, 
until they had all gone out, and the bruised and maimed 
had been carried out alsoe, when we arose and left the 
meeting house, decently and in order, and soe joyously 
down to the landing at the gate of the Fleet Prison. 
When we were in the Queen’s barge. Sir Walter said 
to us : 

“They had not enough faith and thought not with 
sufficient steadfastness.” 


THE ADVENTURE OF THE NECROMANCER 


One nighte her Christian Majesty sent for me 
shortly after supper, and haveing come to the palace 
of Westminster, I found her, together with my Lord 
of Burleigh, Sir Christopher Hatton and Mistress Anne 
Bridges, ready to set forth. This latter was one of 
the Maids of Honor of the Court, with whom I had 
had some accointance. 

It was her Grace’s purpose to visit that nighte the 
house of one Doctor Dee, a famous magician and necro- 
mancer, who lived in a small lane off the Fleet Street, 
that she mighte see, for her diversion, some ensample 
of his wonderous sorcery. Soe, taking boat at the 
palace stairs, we dropped down with the tide and land- 
ing, soon found ourselves at his house. 

A servant took us along a winding and dark pas- 
sage to a large chamber, and goeing in, we found our- 
selves in the presence of Doctor Dee. He was a lean 
and shriveled man of over three score years, with a 
long white beard, with hands like unto the claws of a 
vulture and small, piercing black eyes, thatched over 
with bushy brows of a like color. His almost bald 
cranium was covered with a high peaked red cap and he 
wore a long gown of black, painted with red flames. 
The chamber was of a length of thirty feet and of a 
width of twenty and was filled with all sorts of horrid 
and gruesome things. A stuffed crocodile hung in 
chains from the ceiling, there were shelves of glass 
jars, filled with pickled snakes, lizards, toads and even 
infants, a human skeleton stood in either corner and 
there was an infinite number and variety of stuffed 

350 


THE NECROMANCER 


351 


animals, birds, bats and fishes, of grotesque and repul- 
sive shape, wherever one mighte look. 

The magician himself sat at a desk, at one side of 
the room, poring over a huge and musty volume, while, 
at his elbow stood a black cat, of immense size, with 
a red ribbon around his neck, rubbing his head against 
his master’s face. 

At the noise of our incoming he looked up and 
recognized her Majesty, for he had at one time been 
summoned to the palace at her command to cast her 
horoscope. 

“What would your Grace of her poor servant?” 
asked he, comeing forward and rubbing his parchment- 
like hands together. 

“We would see a sample of your best sorcery,” 
answered her Majesty. 

“An if I have not the means by me to produce a 
sample of the most excellent of which I am capable?” 

“It were better for ye and ye had.” 

“In sooth your Grace doth speke as is your Grace’s 
wont and there is naught left your poor servant but to 
doe his best endeavor, though the present influences 
may not be propitious. 

“Worthy Masters,” speaking to Lord Burleigh and 
Sir Christopher, “has either of ye a fine gold watch by 
him?” 

“I have one here,” said Lord Burleigh, “that may- 
hap is the finest and best in the realm.” 

He produced it and Doctor Dee reached his skinny 
hand for it. 

“Nay, wherefore should I give it thee?” 

“Give it him,” commanded her Majesty, “and be 
swift in the doing of it. Can ye not see that there 
is some rare piece of magic comeing?” 

Burleigh gave up the watch to the sorcerer, though 


352 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


with reluctance, and the latter, taking it, went and 
fetched an iron mortar, putte the watch in it and pro- 
ceeded to hammer it into bits with a heavy iron pestle. 
Burleigh, at this, swore roundly and was for leaping 
upon the Doctor, but the Queen caught him by the tail 
of his cloak. 

“Let be, ye dolt,” said she. “He is but renovating 
it. Doubtlesse it will keep better time hereafter.” 

“It hath not that present appearance, but your 
Grace knoweth best. However, if he injures it a 
pennysworth, the scurvy dog shall be well beaten and 
clapped by the heels.” 

When the necromancer had pounded the watch into 
what seemed to be small particles of wheels and springs, 
he produced a large, bell-mouthed pistol, and haveing 
loaded it with powder, he rammed into the muzzle all 
that was left of the watch, then, aiming the weapon, 
he fired at the opposite end of the chamber. The room 
was for a minute filled with smoke and with the sul- 
phurous fumes of gunpowder and the great black cat, 
spitting forth shrill screams and miaows, flew around 
the chamber through the air and under the furniture 
for the space of a full minute, overturning, scratching 
and tearing. Then the smoke cleared away and the 
conjuror, goeing to the further end of the room, took 
the watch from out of a small silver beaker which stood 
upon the chimney shelf. He brought it and gave it to 
Lord Burleigh and lo and behold, it was ticking mer- 
rily and was in nowise injured or even scratched. 

“Ye would putte me in the stocks, would ye?” 
asked Doctor Dee of Lord Burleigh. 

“I would have done soe, an it had been hurt.” 

“’Tis a fine piece of magic,” said her Grace. “Ye 
must in sooth be leagued with the Devil himself to doe 
this thing. Fain would I be in like case. Here is my 


THE NECROM'ANCER 


353 

own watch. Take it and doe as ye have done with 
Master Cecil’s.” 

“Nay, your fair Grace, it would be but tempting 
Providence to try the matter twice.” 

“I care not whom ye tempt. Take it and doe as 
I bid ye.” 

Soe the Doctor took the Queen’s watch, which 
was a most fine and beauteous thing, being of enameled 
gold, set with precious stones and fastened to a fair 
gold chain, and goeing here and there, he produced 
mortar and pestle and proceeded to pound it into small 
particles. At that moment, the servant called him to 
the door, and taking the mortar with him, the conjuror 
stood in the doorway talking with his man for the 
space of a minute. Meanwhile Mistress Anne Bridges, 
the Queen’s maid of Honor, strolled off to the further 
end of the chamber and now came to me and shewed 
file privily her Majesty’s watch. 

“Here is some rare amusement toward,” said she. 
“I have but just found the watch in the silver beaker, 
where that cunning old rascal hath surreptitiously 
placed it. I wot there will be something doeing in a 
short time from the present moment.” 

The magician now came back and loaded the pistol 
as before. While he was doeing it, I made note that 
Mistress Anne was toying with the great cat. Pres- 
ently Doctor Dee fired the blunderbuss. The chamber 
was filled with smoke as before and the great black 
beast dashed like a whirlwind around the room even 
as he had previously done. He seemed now, however, 
to have something heavy attached to his collar by a 
chain, somewhat which rattled and banged hither and 
thither. 

When the smoke had cleared away, the magician 
went to fetch the watch from the silver tankard, but 

23 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


354 

found it not, at which he seemed to be sore annoyed. 

“By all the saints,” quoth Mistress Bridges, “the 
cat hath her Majesty’s watch tied to his neck, and never 
credit me more if he hath not smashed it out of all 
semblance; to what it was.” 

“Sdeath,” cried her Christian Grace, “but ye shall 
pay me for this thing, if there be blocks and bilboes 
and racks in England. Speke, thou miserable, false 
magician, how came this thing to be?” 

“Nay, fair your Christian Majesty, I knowe not 
what, in my conjuring, hath gone amiss. But surely 
some malign influence hath crossed me in the matter. 
Ha, now I see it. ’Tis the spirit of some she enemy 
of your Majesty who hath done this thing.” 

“Most like the spirit of Mary Queen of Scotland, 
who hath a grudge against your Grace for that small 
trifle which your Majesty did doe her,” suggested 
Mistress Anne. 

“Ha, say ye soe?” said the Queen. “Mayhap ’tis 
as ye say. But I thought that I was noe more to be 
troubled with this jade. If ’tis her work, then in sooth 
good Master Dee is none to blame in the matter.” 

Saying this, her Majesty approached a small cabinet 
set against the wall, in which were arranged several 
puppets or waxen images of the length of half a cubit. 

“I prythee, tell me, good Master Conjuror, what be 
these images of men and women, ranged side by side, 
here in this cabinet?” 

“These be the effigies of divers persons made at the 
instance of certaine of their enemies, who wished to 
work them harm or to destroy them utterly. The 
puppets are constructed with such accompanying spells 
and incantations that, should ye pinch one of them or 
prick it with a pin, the person in whose likenesse it is 
made would forthwith suffer some grievous stab or 


THE NECROMANCER 


355 


buffet. To instance the matter, this image with the 
hedde half torn from its body I made to represent a 
certaine rich squire in Norfolk, at the request of a 
neighbor of his, who wished him ill. This enemy, a 
quick-tempered and hasty fellow, noe sooner got the 
puppet in, his hands than he half tore the hedde off, as 
ye may see. That same nighte, the squire was found 
hanging, stark and dead in the tower of his house.” 

“’Tis a most foul and murtherous thing,” cried Sir 
Christopher Hatton. ‘^Had I my way I would have 
thee hung, drawn and quartered, for thus practising 
upon the subjects of her Royal Grace by converse with 
the evil one.” 

“Nay,” said the Queen, “this thing mighte be use- 
ful at divers and certaine times. Sayest thou, goode 
Master Dee, that thou canst make, with thy enchant- 
ments, an image of any person, in or out of my king- 
dom, by the handling of which one mighte satisfy one- 
self upon the person it represents?” 

“Aye, your Gracious, sweet Majesty, at your com- 
mand, I could not fail in the matter.” 

“I will take twelve dozen of them to start with,” 
said the Queen. 

“Nay, your Royal Grace, these mannikins are con- 
structed at a most ruinous cost for rare herbs, poisonous 
tinctures, and priceless essences, soe that a gross of 
them would come to more money than the Royal treas- 
ury holds. Nathlesse, if your Majesty would be con- 
tent, at the first, with one or two, I would pledge my 
life to produce them this very nighte.” 

“Make me then straughtway, goode Doctor, an 
image of King Philip of Spain and of King Henry of 
France.” 

“Your fair Majesty will surely pardon me, an I 
tell you first that the making of effigies of such great 


356 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

princes as your Majesty spekes of will be of an exceed- 
ing costly nature.” 

“Pardy, I see not why an image of one man should 
cost more than that of another, but tell me, Master Con- 
juror, without beating about the bush, the price of these 
two.” 

‘‘They will cost your sweet Grace not one penny less 
than an hundred pounds apiece.” 

“Ha, sayest thou soe? ’Tis indeed a monstrous 
sum ; still, with these images in mine hands, it will goe 
hard but that I will bring both France and Spain to 
my will, therefore ’tis a fair charge upon the treasury 
of the State. Lord Burleigh, draw at once a warrant 
upon the treasury for this amount in favor of the 
Doctor, and now. Master Magician, to thy work.” 

Doctor Dee at this, immediately retired to a small 
closet at the further end of the chamber, where presently 
sounded the fizzling of the effervescence of strong 
liquids. Then there rolled through the door a cloud 
of yellow, sulphurous smoke, accompanied by an odor, 
so acrid, pungent, foul and diabolical that we all came 
nearly to death from suffocation. Suddenly there was 
a fierce satanic yell and the great black cat came from 
the closet like a stone hurled from a catapult and 
launched himself through a window of the room, take- 
ing the glass and part of the sash with him. 

All was silent now for the space of a quarter hour, 
then the sorcerer appeared, haveing in his hands two 
waxen images or puppets, which he gave over to the 
Queen. 

“This one,” said he, “is the effigy of King Henry 
of France and the other that of King Philip of Spain.” 

The Queen tooke them gingerly. 

“How sayest thou. Master Magician? This short 
fat puppet which thou hast designated as King Philip 


THE NECROMANCER 


357 


of Spain hath not the semblance of him; as I recall the 
man, when he was the husband of my sister Mary. He 
was of a long, thin figure whereas, this image hath 
more the look of stout Lord Burleigh here. Then too 
thou hast made for me a tall spare mannikin to represent 
the King of France, who is notably both short and 
thick. Ha, by my soul, this last is the spekeing like- 
nesse of yon Sir Christopher. It striketh me that thou 
hast played false in this matter.” 

“Nay, fair your Grace, the exact likenesse in these 
effigies is of noe great matter, but rather the spells and 
mysteries which have been used in their makeing. May 
the Devil take me, if these two puppets be not honestly 
and well made, and your fair Grace will soon see that 
they will amply fulfill their purpose.” 

The conjuror then went up to Sir Christopher. 

“Soe ye would have rue hung, drawn and quar- 
tered? As I rede the thing, ye will wish ye had been 
less rude in the matter.” 

We now prepared to take leave, and the Queen put 
the two puppets in her reticule and handed it to Mistress 
Anne Bridges. 

“Carry this for me child, until we come to the 
palace,” said she. 

Mistress Anne tooke the reticule, and as we were 
goeing forth from the chamber, from mayhap some 
curious impulse, gave to the contents of it a good 
squeeze. 

Forthwith, Lord Burleigh gave out a most dolorous 
groan and doubled himself up, with his hands clutched 
across his abdomen. 

“Mercy, what ails ye?” asked the Queen. 

“Ah, good your Majesty, I had a most rude and 
cruel pain come upon me most suddenly. Now, thank 
God, his gone again.” 


358 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


With this he straightened himself up, though his 
face was damp with sweat, and we proceeded to goe 
through the passage to the street. Mistress Anne was 
swinging the Queen’s reticule by her side and I noticed 
that it struck against a projection of the woodwork. 

Immediately Sir Christopher stumbled and fell 
headlong upon the roughly planked floor, cutting a 
rude gash over his brow and giveing his knee such a 
whack that he could scarce walk for limping. 

“I see,” said the Queen, “that ye have been tippling 
again. Fie upon ye for a disreputable knave. Nay,” 
continued she, as he commenced mumbling something 
in his beard, “dare not to contradict me. I have known 
ye for long and I knowe when ye are drunk.” 

Upon our way to the waterside, Burleigh and Sir 
Christopher, who passed before, continually stumbled, 
lurched and swayed from side to side. 

“Ods zooks,” exclaimed the Queen, “they be both 
of them foully the worse for liquor, though how they 
came by it I knowe not. It needs be that they had 
brought it with them.” 

When we came down the stairs to the river and 
reached the boat, the Queen tooke her seat in! the stern 
and Mistress Anne, preparing to get in, tossed the 
reticule containing the puppets into the boat. At once. 
Lord Burleigh and Sir Christopher, who were prepar- 
ing to embark, became twisted up, one with the other, 
and fell headlong into the boat, among the ribs and 
thwarts, where they lay for not a few moments, writh- 
ing and groaning with pain, before they could extricate 
themselves. 

“Who mighte think,” said her Majesty, “that two 
such grey-bearded and respected Signors would take 
unto themselves the behaviour of swine? In sooth 
and verily it passeth belief and comprehension.” 


THE NECROMANCER 


359 


Arriving at the palace at Westminster, we were all 
commanded to come before the Queen in her audience 
chamber. When her Majesty had ascended the throne 
and we stood before her, she bade Mistress Bridges give 
her the reticule which contained the waxen figures, 
which was done. She tooke them from the bag and 
holding up the stout fat image said : 

‘‘Soe this is my well beloved brother, Philip of 
Spain.” 

With that she gave the puppet a smart flick with 
her finger upon the hedde. Forthwith Lord Burleigh 
uttered a cry of cruel pain, clapped his hand to the side 
of his pate and staggered backward. 

‘‘What ails ye, man ?” exclaimed the Queen. “Can 
I not give a love tap to the effigy of my brother-in-law 
but ye must act as if ye had been at the same time 
struck with a club?” 

Even as she spake, to illustrate the matter, she gave 
the puppet a still harder flick, and with that, as if he 
had been struck a terrible blow, Burleigh fell to the 
floor. 

“’Tis passing strange,” said her Majesty, “that the 
flicking of this effigy should have such strange effect 
upon my Lord of Burleigh. Grammercy, I must needs 
try if a flip upon the other puppet may have the like 
outcome.” 

Saying this, she tooke up the image of the King of 
France and cuffed it soundly upon the pate, with which, 
immediately. Sir Christopher Hatton gave forth a great 
groan and tumbled completely over backward. 

“Ha, ha,” exclaimed her Grace, “here is some foul 
plot hatching. If perchance I give a tap of the finger 
to this effigy of my brother Philip, our good Burleigh 
seemeth to suffer from a rude blow, whereas, if it is the 
image of Henry which I maltreat, it is Sir Christopher 


36 o ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


who getteth it upon the pate. Good Lord, what fules 
we be. This arch conjuror, this Devil’s own cheat 
hath putte a swindle upon us, and for two hundred 
pounds, for which we were to have had the effigies of 
the King of France and Spain, hath given us waxen 
images of these two poor gentlemen which, by the rood, 
are not worth a tenth part of the money. Well did I 
note the likenesse of these puppets to your worships, 
but the foul rogue swore that figure and semblance did 
not matter. Let us but try once more to find mayhap 
if we be right in the matter.” 

Saying this, the Queen prepared to putte it to a 
further test, but both Lord Burleigh and Sir Christopher 
besought her, by the love of God, to take the thing for 
granted. 

“But I am not certaine about Sir Christopher. Now 
with just one small filip.” 

“Doth your fair Grace wish to kill me?” cried he. 
“For the love of Heaven, touch it not again or I am 
undone.” 

“But my goode sirs, what shall we then doe with 
these puppets ? It beseemeth me that it would be better 
to burn them both at once.” 

“For God’s sake noe, your fair Majesty, for then 
we would both be burned at the same time,” said the 
two together. 

“Beshrew me, but I knowe not what to doe in the 
matter. Mayhap a sprinkling of holy water upon these 
images would divest them of the Devil’s spell which is 
contained in them but, as we have banished all the 
priests and putte to death those who would not be 
banished, I knowe not how we may come by such a 
commodity. We will putte the mannikins for the 
nonce, safely in a locked cabinet, until we may find 
from some holy man how best we may dissolve the 


THE NECROM^ANCER 


361 

incantation. Meanwhile, this arch cheat and Devil’s 
own son, this Doctor Dee, shall receive meet punish- 
ment for the cozzenry which he hath putte upon us. 
You, Lord Burleigh and Sir Christopher, take unto you 
Master Roland Drake, with a dozen of his men at ten 
upon the morrow morn, goe to the house of this cog- 
ging necromancer, bind him hand and foot and cast 
him into the bottom dungeon of the tower. Then sack 
the house and burn it, and if ye find aught of value 
there or on his person, bring the same straightway to 
me.” 

In accordance with the command of our Sovereign, 
we went away next day to the house in the small lane 
off the Fleet street, but there was not a liveing thing 
in all the house and everything of value had been car- 
ried thence. Upon a paper, nailed to the inside of the 
door, were penned these words ; 

‘‘Ye would have me whipped and clapped by the heels, 
would ye. Lord Burleigh ? And ye would have me hung, 
drawn and quartered, would ye. Sir Christopher Hatton ? 
E’en now my Master Sathanus doth gibe at ye.” 

That was the last we ever saw of Doctor Dee. As 
to the puppets, some say that her Christian Majesty 
kept them until her death, and by means of the power 
in them vested, kept Lord Burleigh and Sir Christopher 
always her faithful servants. 


THE ADVENTURE OF THE QUEEN’S TEETH 

In the morning of All Saint’s Day, her Christian 
Grace sent for me to her audience chamber and when 
I had come poste haste, I found her sitting upon her 
new gilded throne and surrounded by her Maids of 
Honor and by several gentlemen. She at once dis- 
missed them all and commanded me to come close be- 
fore her, the which I did. 

Her Majesty of late had gotten the custom of shew- 
ing that she was pleased with a person by smiling upon 
him most sweetly and such a smile she now greeted 
me with and I tooke note that her Grace was possessed 
of most white, even and beautiful teeth, whereat I 
marvelled, as I had not previously perceived them. 

“Have ye thought upon the question which I did 
ask ye once upon a time?” 

Now I recollected that she had asked me if I loved 
her, but I sought to gain time. 

“Was it about the fetching of a parson for the 
prisoners in the tower?” I asked. 

“To the devil with your parsons!” said she. “Ye 
wot well the question which I spake of.” 

I saw well that I must dally noe longer, soe I knelt 
before her and picking up the hem of her garment, 
kissed it. With that she leaned forward and passed 
her jewelled hand through my curling locks. 

Now it chaunced that, upon the day before, I had 
felt an uncommon itching of the scalp, which was noe 
strange thing, as I had slept the nighte past in the 
guard room with a score of stout and scurvy knaves 
whom we had lately recruited into our company. Goe- 
ing therefrom straightway to my barber, he had 

362 


THE QUEEN’S TEETH 


363 


scraped my hedde well with a fine comb and when I 
asked if he had captured something, he answered, “Aye 
several somethings.” He had thereupon rubbed my 
scalp well with red pepper and it was even thus that 
I had come to the Queen, being forgetful of the matter. 

Soe it was that when her Grace dallied with my 
locks she commenced to sneeze and straightway there- 
after had a terrible fit of coughing and as I started up 
in alarm, something white shot from her mouth and 
hit me upon the left ear, whereupon her Grace clapped 
her hand to her mouth and fled incontinently from the 
chamber. 

Looking about to find what had struck me, I saw 
something white upon the floor and picking up the 
object I found a half a dozen teeth, very beautiful and 
regular. Yet there was this strange thing about them, 
that they were fastened together in a row by an ex- 
ceeding thin plate of gold. 

Now I was much alarmed and sorrowful that the 
Queen should come by this grievous hurt and I was 
hastening after her that I mighte return them to her, 
when I came plump upon Mistress Anne Bridges in 
the doorway. 

“Whither are ye bound in such haste?” she asked. 

I showed her what I had found. 

“Her Christian Grace,” said I, “hath coughed up 
six of her best teeth, and is doubtlesse in great pain 
from such a grievous wrench. I goe to restore them 
to her, and it were best to send immediately for the 
chirurgeon.” 

After much gay and injurious laughter. Mistress 
Anne spoke: 

“Knowe ye not, ye dolt, that these be false?” 

“Nay,” said I, “how may that well be? If I ever 
have seen goode, sound and true teeth, these be they.” 


364 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

“Aye, they be goode sound human teeth well 
enough, but knowe ye not that a skillful chirurgeon 
may take these same teeth from the jaw of some healthy 
young person and join them with a plate thus, soe that 
when putte into the mouth of one who hath noe teeth, 
they stay in place and are in all things as those which 
are given by nature.” 

Then I remembered how her Christian Majesty 
had been wont to smile of late. 

“This year of 1 583 is a year of great and wonderous 
things,” said L “But I must seek her Grace and give 
her back that which she hath lost.” 

“Not in a thousand years,” exclaimed Mistress 
Anne. “Doe ye wish to lose your hedde upon the 
block? Doe ye not knowe that it is a most parlous 
thing to have knowledge of the defects of Princes? 
There is but qne man who is supposed to have cogniz- 
ance of this thing, and that is Master Ralph Davidson, 
her chirurgeon, and but one woman, and she is the lady 
of the bed chamber. And though we maids have 
private knowledge of the fact, yet would we not, for 
the gift of a velvet gown and a diamond stomacher, 
that her Grace should knowe that we knowe it. Give 
me then the teeth, I prythee. Good Master Roland, and 
I will lay them in some spot where she may readily 
come by them.” 

“But,” said I, “fair Mistress Bridges, doth her 
Majesty not knowe that she spat them out upon me 
but a moment gone?” 

“Nay,” answered she, “for the old tabby is even 
now searching for them in her chamber, and there will 
be an exceeding fiery time in this old palace of West- 
minster to-nighte, and she find them not.” 

I immediately upon this plucked out the teeth and 
gave them to the fair Mistress Anne, and she tooke 


THE QUEEN’S TEETH 


365 


them and placed them in a very small silk bag which 
hung at her white and pretty wrist by a ribbon of black 
velvet. The which being done, she left me and went 
into the Queen’s inner apartments, whence she had 
come. 

This was in the morning, and when it had come 
nighte of the following day, or about seven of the clock, 
I was again sent for to the Queen’s apartments. Mis- 
tress Anne met me in her Majesty’s audience chamber 
and I remember now that I tooke note, and not for 
the first time either, of her exceeding handsome face 
and comely figure. 

She was a tallish maid with a skin like milk and 
a surprising lot of dark brown curling hair, but her 
eyes were the great charm of her, large and blue with 
the Devil’s own mischief in them, whether they looked 
at ye open and innocent like, or were cast down like 
those of a saint, which, by my faith, she was not. She 
wore a fardingale of red velvet and a very trim black 
silk bodice embroidered with silver cord and my heart 
rose up into my throat at the look of her. 

“Master Roland,” said she, quickly, “there hath 
been the fiend’s own coil about her Grace’s ivories, since 
yester morn.” 

“How now, fair Mistress Anne,” said I, “hath she 
lost them again?” 

“Lost them again ! She hath not yet found them. 
After ye had given them to me, I kept them for a time 
for the mere plaisaunce of the thing that I mighte see 
how she would bite not haveing them. When at last 
I was sick with the merriment of it, I tooke them privily 
to her bed chamber and laid them in among some 
orange peels and lumps of sugar in a saucer which was 
upon a small table at the hedde of the royal bed. Then 
goeing to the Lady of the bed chamber, I told her 


366 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


where the teeth were, that she mighte inform her 
Majesty. When she had done soe, the Queen went 
straightway to her bed chamber filled with much joy, 
but as she entered, a maid servant was at that instant 
emptying the saucer out of the window, which, as ye 
knowe, looks out upon a small lane leading to the city. 
Her Grace swearing roundly, ran to the window and 
looked forth. A man at this very instant, was passing 
by, leading along toward the city by a rope a large 
swine. The pig pulled at the rope which tethered him 
and swallowed in a twinkling everything which was 
flung down, and her Grace, seeing that her teeth were 
on the inside of the swine, with a grievous shriek, fell 
to the floor in a faint. When her Grace was brought 
to, she had the maid servant triced up by the thumbs 
to a hook in the closet, soe that her toes did scarce 
touch the ground, where I think she even now is. Then 
she sent several to pursue the man with the pig, but 
much time haveing elapsed, he had already taken the 
swine to one Nicholas Grub, a butcher of Aldgate, and 
the foul animal is even now slaughtered and cut up 
into hams, shoulders, loins, ribs and sausages. Ye are 
sent for now, as I rede the matter, that ye may seek 
out this same Nicholas Grub, the butcher in Aldgate, 
and recover from him the teeth, which, surely, he must 
needs have found when dividing up the swine. Nath- 
lesse, there is this hard thing about the matter, ye are 
not to knowe what ye have found if ye find them.’^ 

“But how may that be?” asked I. 

“Ha, ha,” laughed Mistress Anne, “if ye cannot tell 
yourself, ye must not ask me. But her Grace is wait- 
ing in her withdrawing room. Goe to her at once, and 
she will instruct ye further.” 

Soe I went in to the Queen and found her ready 
to set forth. 


THE QUEEN’S TEETH 


367 


“Master Roland/’ said she, “I have lost something 
which is of great value to me, and it must needs be 
found this very nighte. Fetch two of your yeomen 
of the guard and goe with me at once whither I shall 
direct.” 

Her Majesty spake with a muffled voice and held 
continually her hand before her mouth. Her upper 
lip and cheeks seemed to have gone inward, but I made 
as though I saw it not. When I had fetched my men, 
we tooke boat and dropped down to the tower, whence 
we went on foot to Aldgate. 

When we were come to the shop of Master Nicholas 
Grub, her Grace entered and we followed close upon 
her. 

“What doth your Ladyship lack?” enquired the 
butcher. 

“How knowe ye that I lack anything, fellow ? But 
answer as I bid ye, or I will have ye trussed up like 
your own mutton. Did ye or did ye not purchase a 
swine yester morn from a yokel who came from Hol- 
born way?” 

Master Grub putte on a sullen look at being thus 
addressed, and was for goeing about his business, but 
I fetched him a blow with the flat of my sword upon 
the ear, whereat he became all civility. 

“Aye, your sweet Ladyship,” said he, “I did buy 
such a swine of such a fellow, and a prime ferkel he 
was.” 

“And have ye bought other swine since ye bought 
this one?” 

“Nay, your fine Ladyship, I have bought none 
other, seeing that it was a fine fat pig and I could not 
dispose of it for a week at the least.” 

“Now, listen, fellow !” commanded her Grace, “and 
Speke the truth upon your hope of being allowed to 


368 ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 

live. Did ye find aught upon the inside of this swine?” 

“Aye, your excellent Ladyship, I found several 
things.” 

“And what found ye?” asked her Majesty with 
much excitement. 

“And what would your Ladyship that I should find 
upon the inside of a pig?” 

I made a motion toward him with my sword. 

“Was there anything there contrary to the nature 
of the animal ?” said 1. 

“If there was, your Ladyship, I did not see it.” 

“What have ye done with the animal?” asked her 
Grace. 

Master Grub showed us a quantity of hams, 
shoulders, ribs and sausages. 

“These be all that came from him, your Worship.” 

At the Queen’s command we tooke knives and sliced 
all the sausages exceeding small but without finding 
anything soe large as a pin’s hedde. 

A thought came to me and I seized Master Grub 
by the collar and held my weapon over him. 

“Dog of a butcher,” I thundered, “have ye not sold 
some of these sausages?” 

“Aye,” answered he, trembling, “I have in sooth 
sold one small parcel to Master Giles Smallwood, who 
lives hard by in Rood Lane. Further than that, upon 
my life I have sold naught, the pig being cut up but an 
hour agone.” 

Then we all came forth from the shop and pro- 
ceeded with haste to the house of Giles Smallwood. 
As we left, her Grace laid down upon the counter a 
coin, saying, “This is for thy loss.” But Master Grub 
followed us to the door and when we were some way 
off he cried after us abusively and threw after us the 
coin. Her Majesty stooped and picked it up. 


THE QUEEN’S TEETH 369 

“It is a lucky omen to have coins thrown after one/’ 
said she, “besides which I am tuppence ahedde.” 

When we were come to Master Gile’s house, we 
found noe one there save his goode wife, a stout and 
hard-favored virago who opened the door to us. 

I asked her if she and her goode man had eaten of 
the sausages which they had bought from Nicholas 
Grub and whether they had found aught within them. 

“Aye,” answered she, “my goode man found that 
within them which has caused a dire coldnesse to come 
between us, for while he was eating, he plucked some- 
thing from his mouth, what it was I saw not, but he 
thrust it in his wallet, leaped up and swore that I had 
putte something in his food to murder him. With that, 
I tooke the broom and belabored him about the house 
’till he fled forth into the street. A plague seize upon 
the dolt.” 

“And knowest thou where he may now be found?” 

“Doe I knowe? Aye that I doe. If the Elephant 
Tavern hard by be still standing I’ll warrant the 
drunken oaf may be found there.” 

At this we departed for the Elephant Tavern, where 
we found Master Giles sitting fast asleep with his 
hedde in his arms upon a table. We asked the tapster 
to awaken him. 

“It is not in the power of man to doe soe at the 
present time,” said he. 

“Then search his pockets,” I commanded, “for he 
hath something about his person which is of great 
value to us.” 

“Nay,” said the tapster, “that were alike uselesse, 
for he hath been playing skittles with an arch rogue, 
one Master Peter Butts, for a penny a game, and if 
Master Peter hath left anything upon him, it is because 
he could not find it.” 

24 


370 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


‘^Nathlesse,” said I, ^'search him well, and if ye 
can come by what we have lost, we will reward ye 
richly/’ 

Soe the tapster searched his cloathing and wallet, 
but found absolutely nothing. 

Enquiring then where- we mighte come by a meet- 
ing with Peter Butts, we were told that he lived with 
his sister, around the corner upon Hart Street. I then 
asked her Grace to await us at the Elephant Tavern, 
while my men and I went in search of Master Butts; 
soe her Majesty set herself down and called for a pot 
of beer. When we were come to the house which was 
pointed out to us by the tapster, the door was opened 
to us by a young and comely wench, who said that her 
name was Phoebe Butts, and that she was the sister of 
Master Peter. I chucked her under the chin and 
pinched her round arm in order to get her into a goode 
humour. 

‘‘Doth thy brother Peter chaunce to be in the 
house?” asked I. 

“Nay,” she answered, “he hath gone hence but a 
moment agone. He came home a quarter hour since 
and hung up his doublet and scrip upon the nail, that 
he mighte goe into the kitchen for somewhat. A mo- 
ment thereafter, one Watt Perkins, an under groom 
in the Queen’s Palace at Westminster, an accointance 
of ours, stopped in upon the way to the palace to pass 
the time of day. Seeing now Peter’s doublet and wal- 
let upon the nail, and deeming it a pleasant jest, he 
tooke them and putte them on, leaving his own worn 
garments hanging on the hook instead, and went his 
way. Then came my brother Peter and finding his 
garments gone and that Watt Perkins had taken them, 
straightway ran out in pursuit of him. Nor hath he 
returned.” 


THE QUEEN’S TEETH 


371 


I kissed the jade for her trouble and we at once 
departed back for the Tavern, where we found her 
Majesty seemingly in most excellent spirits, she haveing 
had already six measures of ale. She was for goeing 
to Westminster, soe we went down Fenchurch Street 
to the water’s side and tooke boat and got back to the 
palace. 

When we were come to the Queen’s apartments, her 
Grace left me and retired to the withdrawing room. 
Presently, I being alone, cometh Mistress Anne Bridges 
into the chamber. A handsomer maid than she looked 
at that moment I had ne’er seen, soe for very joy of 
her prettinesse, I seized her about the waist, drew her 
to me and gave her a good buss upon the mouth. As 
luck would have it, her Majesty, at that very moment, 
came into the apartment. She was filled with greate 
anger at what she saw. 

‘‘God’s Death,” she cried, “what drunken roysterer 
and what foul wanton have we here? Saw man ever 
the like of such indecency? Marry, but it shall goe 
hard with the both of ye for this damnable licence.” 

“Nay,” said Mistress Anne with a despiteful look 
at me, “I want none of the lout’s caresses, nor would 
I have suffered them but that he tooke me by force and 
unawares.” 

“Say ye soe?” said her Grace. “Goe then quickly 
to your chamber and as for you, ye deceitful and 
swaggering wencher, I will have ye reduced to the 
ranks and most like thrown into the deepest dungeon 
of the tower.” 

We were preparing to leave the chamber by differ- 
ent doors when her Majesty called us back. 

“Master Roland,” said she, “I will not have ye to 
think that I care tuppence what wench ye may choose 
and I will give ye a chaunce to redeem your present 


372 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


sunken fortunes. Find that which I have lost by twelve 
o'clock this nighte and ye may have the girl to wife. 
Find it not and ye are noe longer lieutenant of the yeo- 
men and most like I will cut the hedde from thy 
shoulders.” 

“But I doe not want the varlet,” said Anne. 

“Who asked whether ye wanted him ? By the rood, 
I’ll have my way in the matter. Doe ye wish to be 
triced up and whipped?” At this moment there came 
to our ears from the lower floor of the palace a greate 
outcry and the noise of much rushing to and fro, and 
her Majesty commanded me to goe instantly and find 
out what had occasioned it. 

Upon arriving in the kitchen, where I found the 
tumult to be, I perceived Watt Perkins endeavoring 
to lay hold upon a tame ape, which had stolen some- 
thing of his belonging. This ape was named Pompey. 
He had been presented to the Queen by Sir Francis 
Drake, my uncle, upon his return from his famous 
voyage around the world, and was allowed to roam 
undisturbed through the kitchen, scullery and the other 
nether apartments of the palace. 

“What hath the creature taken from thee ?” I asked. 

“I knowe not,” answered Watt, “but ye may see 
that he holds his paw behind him and that it\ doth con- 
tain something white and shining. I brought with 
me to the palace tonighte in the way of a jest, a scrip 
or wallet belonging to one Peter Butts, and pouring 
the contents of it out upon the settle, I went to get a 
candle of one of the wenches, as it was somewhat dark, 
and I wished to see what I had gotten. Meanwhile 
comes this Devil’s Imp and snatches somewhat from 
the pile, nor will he give it up, neither can we lay hands 
upon him.” 

With that Watt Perkins made a rush for the ape 


THE QUEEN’S TEETH 


373 


which sat upon a huge shelf above the chimney place. 
Pompey, however, leaped past him, knocked over a 
kitchen wench who stood in his way and escaped from 
the kitchen. Then we gave chase, the maids. Watt 
Perkins and I, through all the rooms and hallways 
upon that floor of the palace, downstairs and upstairs 
and through more chambers and hallways until at 
length we followed him into the great audience chamber. 

Here he tooke refuge upon the top of a great 
armoire and chattered at us. Her Majesty now came 
into the chamber and asked the cause of all the tumult. 

“It is Pompey the ape,” said I. “He has what 
your Grace is looking for.” 

Her Christian Mightinesse tooke a large bottle of 
Venetian glass of greate value and threw it at the ape. 
Pompey eluded it and sprang down and flew from the 
chamber. The bottle, however, struck a fair marble 
bust of King Henry, her Majesty’s noble father, soe 
that the bottle was broken and the bust fell to the 
ground and the hedde was splintered from it. 

“Ah the pity of it,” sighed her Grace, “I would not 
have had it broken for a Saint’s ransom.” 

“In sooth it is sorrowful,” said I, “that the like- 
nesse of soe greate a king should be broken.” 

“I meant the bottle,” said her Majesty. With that 
we followed the ape into the next chamber and her 
Grace snatching up her scepter, which chaunced to stand 
in one of the corners rushed upon him. 

“Huroo,” cried her Majesty, “I have thee now, thou 
son of Satan.” 

The Queen, however, was somewhat unsteady upon 
her legs soe that suddenly she slipped and sat down 
with greate force upon the floor, whereat Master 
Pompey sprang upon her shoulders and lifting a part 
of her hair away from her hedde was gone instantly 


374 


ALRASCHID IN PETTICOATES 


from sight. Pompey now had found his way to the 
Queen’s bedchamber and as we were goeing thither, 
we met him comeing forth. 

I picked up a heavy foot stool and threw it with 
soe goode an aim that it knocked him over and half 
stunned him. I could see for an instant the teeth 
rolling away toward the corner, but her Grace with 
greate swiftnesse picked them up, and with her back 
toward us, clapped them in place. Then she turned 
to me and smiling sweetly, whereby she showed a row 
of small, milk white, even teeth, said: 

“By my Halidom, ’tis well. Master Roland, ye 
are still Lieutenant and ye shall have that wench 
Bridges.” 

“But an if I doe not want the bear?” asked Anne. 

“He shall have ye all the same, minion.” 

Saying this, her Majesty left us alone. 

“How came the ape by the teeth?” asked Mistress 
Anne Bridges. 

I told her how they had gone from the swine’s 
insides into the sausages, from the sausages to the pos- 
session of Giles Smallwood, from Giles to Peter Butts, 
from Peter Butts to Watt Perkins and from Watt 
Perkins to the ape. 

“Thou poor fule,” said she, “if thou believest that, 
thou art much more of a wittol than I tooke thee for.” 

“How may that be, fair Mistress Anne?” 

“Because I have had these same teeth in my reticule 
all the time.” 

“And how came the ape by them at last?” 

“For the reason, thou slow-witted fellow, that I 
placed them, but a few moments agone, in the saucer 
which stands upon the table by the hedde of her Grace’s 
bed. Here Pompey found them a moment after and 
left in their place this.” 


THE QUEEN’S TEETH 375 

She showed me a large brass ring inscribed with the 
name of Nicholas Grub, the butcher. 

‘‘But why didst thou give up the teeth at this time ?” 
I asked. 

“Wouldst have me cause thee to be disgraced and 
thrown in prison?” 

“But by doeing this thing thou must alsoe marry 
me, sweet Mistress.” 

“Most like I will have to putte up with that mis- 
fortune,” said she, with an arch look. 

This is how I got Mistress Bridges to be my wife. 
After this I was noe more troubled with the attentions 
of her Christian Majesty and from that date she had 
me noe longer goe with her upon her adventures. 
Sooth to say I knowe not if perchance she did again 
goe forth after that time. 


BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

“OUR UNCLE WILLIAM” 

CONTAINS ALSO 

NATE SAWYER 

A Tale of the Adirondacks 


12mo, Cloth, 410 Pages. 

Price $1.35 


Short Extracts from some of the Tress Notices 

“ ‘Uncle William’ is a loveable old man whose influence for 
good seems to affect nearly everybody with whom he comes in 
contact. The story is doubtless intended as a character sketch. 
While the author has succeeded in making it all that, he has 
gone even further by making it a delightful mystery story. 

“ ‘Nate Sawyer’ is the name of the other story, which is 
not only longer, but carries the characters through to a point 
where the reader can leave them without worry as to their 
future. There is a splendid plot, well worked out, and the 
descriptive work is excellent. Mr. Foster has a keen sense of 
humor, which he employs to excellent advantage.” 

— Brooklyn Standard Union. 

“Mr. Foster’s stories are the kind one should read in order 
to enjoy them, for description of them always fails to carry the 
charm that is his by native endowment as a story teller with 
a rare zest in life and without the troublesome method of 
problem studies, so characteristic of many in these serious days.” 

— Buffalo News. 

“These two stories, contained in one sizeable volum.e, are 
widely different in character, but both pleasing to the limit of 
desire. 

“ ‘Our Uncle William’ is a touching and pathetic story of 
human characteristics — of selfishness, frivolity, rascality, fair 
dealing, common sense, goodness and real love. 

“ ‘Nate Sawyer’ is a story of adventure, rascally intrigue, a 
murder mystery and a delightful romance.” 

— Wilmington Every Evening. 


BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

“THE DIVIDED MEDAL” 


A Novel of Mystery and Hidden Treasure 

359 Pages, Cloth, 12mo. 

Price $1.25 


Short Extracts from a few of the Press Notices 

“ ‘The Divided Medal’ is another of those ‘I-can’t-Iay-it-down* 
’till-the-end’ kind of books, and makes decidedly good reading. If 
you like a corking good adventure story, full of humor and alive with 
romance, ‘The Divided Medal’ will be sure to please. It is a most 
entertaining tale, well told, and that is the most that can be asked of 
any author.” — Indianapolis (Indiana) Daily Times. 

“The characters stand out clearly, the dialogue is well conducted, 
and above all, the story itself marches straight on from beginning to 
end so that the interest perpetually increases until the conclusion.” 

— Buffalo News. 

“People who have a natural or acquired liking for enigmas, 
puzzles and that sort of thing will enjoy ‘The Divided Medal.’ The 
story is a very clean, well-told, and interesting novel It is to be 
thoroughly commended.” — Worcester Gazette. 

“The author has presented a very engrossing novel in the ‘Divided 
Medal.’ A charming love romance is threaded through the narra- 
tive, lending an added interest to the mystery features of the plot. 
The story is exceedingly well constructed and intensely interesting 
throughout.” — Salt Lake Tribune, 


BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

“The Road to London” 


A Novel o{ Romance and Adventure 
335 Pages, Cloth, 12mo. 

Price $1.25 

Short Extracts from a few of the Press Notices 

“Whoever wants a first-class novel, packed full of adventures, 
sparkling with humor, alive with romance, will enjoy ‘The 
Road to London,’ by David Skaats Foster.” — Buffalo Evening 
Nevus. 

“Youth, laughter and love; an all too brief summer; London-town 
and vicinity, and every stratum of society from the prince to 
the pauper, are the ingredients of this delightful prescription 
to dispel the blues.” — Albany Times-U nion. 

“ ‘The Road to London’ is in the author’s best vein. The characters 
are strongly drawn, the filling perfect, while the description 
lends it a delightful charm.” — Grand Rapids Herald. 

“Action, action, action, is the great feature of this tale, and the 
author shows some of the vital force of the skilled dramatist as 
he unravels his plot and presents his characters. Finally, a 
more entertaining romance could not be conceived.” — The 
Newark Star. 

“If this lively tale is a fair specimen of Mr. Foster’s work and 
style, he cannot come back any too soon,” — Worcester Gazette. 


BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

“REBECCA THE WITCH” 

AND 

OTHER TALES IN METRE 


12mo, Cloth, 200 Pages. 

Price $1.00 


Short Extracts from some of the Press Notices 

“That the author is a humorist, is not to be denied, and he has 
a facile grace of expression and a happy inventive faculty that 
produce the most pleasing results .” — Boston Gazette. 

“‘Rebecca the Witch, and Other Tales in Metre,’ by David 
Skaats Foster. The words ‘in metre’ are used advisedly, for Mr. 
Foster is master of a rare felicity of rhythm. He has also originality 
and force combined with a quaint humor. When he chooses to be 
musical and enrich his metre with rhyme, he is equally felicitous, 
with a good preference for the sonorous monosyllables. Best of all, 
he never writes without having something to say and always says it 
well. Mr. Foster belongs to the elect body of bards who know how 
to tell a story strenuously and musically .” — Boston Pilot, 

“The moment you strike into the first poem you are interested. 
There is something fresh and homely in its matter, as well as the 
manner. . . . But the writer’s animal spirits and his genuine 

hearty sympathy with old things that have dear associations — these 
are his most characteristic traits. There are many poems here of 
blessed recollection— poems that will send the reader’s heart journey- 
ing back to his own boyhood .” — Boston Register. 

“The book will be welcomed by all who have a taste for genuine 
sentiment, quaint fancies, unpretentious humor, and clearness of 
thought, expressed in a style of noteworthy grace.’"— Literary World. 


BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

“FUGHTY ARETHUSA” 

A Romantic and Humorous Novel 

326 Pages, Cloth, 12mo. Five Illustrations 

Price $1.25 


§>hort Extracts from some of the Tress Notices 

“The dialogue is more sparkling than anything written in many 
a day.” — Rochester Democrat. 

“Odd, grave, comical, absurd and stirring is ‘The Flighty Are- 
thusa.’ ” — Louisville Courier- Journal. 

“Attic salt of wit and saving grace of humor.” — Philadelphia 
North American. 

“A whimsical tale well told.” — Brooklyn Eagle. 

“Tremendously interesting.” — Rochester Democrat. 

“One of the most alluring and fascinating stories for many a 
day.” — Grand Rapids Herald. 

“One rejoices to find that it is so well done.” — St. Louis Times. 

“Lively, cleverly written. Full of interest.”— Df/rot/ Times. 

“A splendid story.” — Boston Globe. 

“The sprightly humor that pervades the hook:'— Cincinnati Times- 
Star. 

“Fertility of invention and much charm of ndivrztxon."— Philadelphia 
Enquirer. 

“The author must have enjoyed writing that book.” — Chicago 
Record-Herald. 













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